


Darkness

by Deanandhisbabyboy (NoSoulSammy)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Awesome Bobby, Established Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Established Relationship, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Incest, M/M, Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Protective Dean Winchester, Sibling Incest, Torture, Wincest - Freeform, Work In Progress, post 7X05
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 16:45:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3495602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoSoulSammy/pseuds/Deanandhisbabyboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone wants revenge for something Dean did in the past and they know exactly how to get it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright time for another chapter fic! I've started writing this months ago but I never got around to posting it. I wrote a lot of it but it might take a bit to post because I am still working on my SPN&DW crossover and I am writing a sequel to one of my other fanfics on my non-Wincest account and school, SAT's, school plays, blah blah blah. It's been a long, tiring day so if something seems worded wrong or if it doesn't make sense I will try to work on it tomorrow. I will try to post the next chapter by next week but if I don't I apologize in advance.
> 
> This is set after Shut Up Dr Phil but before Slash Fiction.

Darkness.

Darkness was the first thing Sam Winchester was aware of. He didn't remember it being this dark back at the motel he and Dean were staying at. Had he gone blind somehow?

Sam tried to open his mouth to call out to Dean to tell him to turn the damn lights on, only to realize something that felt like cotton was stuffed in his mouth and was taped down. He then felt something shift in front of his eyes. The hunter let out a breath of relief through his nose. At least he wasn't blind. He tugged his right arm, feeling rough plastic zip ties cut into his wrist and bicep which were tied down to the arm of a chair. He tugged his left arm, ending up with the same results. Sam tried to kick out, only to discover that his ankles were restrained to the chair as well.

Waking up tied to a chair was never a good thing. Unless Dean wanted to try something kinky, Sam knew he was in big trouble.

The small beat in his head decided to make itself known. It grew into a loud, steady thump that hit the back of Sam's skull. He was suddenly thankful for the blindfold; at least it kept the light away from him. Sam realized that he might have a concussion, but right then that was the least of his worries.

"Look who's finally awake," a masculine voice called out in front of him. Sam heard heavy footsteps move towards him, coming to a stop in front of him. A callous hand started running through his hair. Sam shuddered and tried to pull away from the hand, shaking his head and shouted at the man. 

"Looks like we got ourselves a feisty one," the man said, taking his hand out of Sam's hair. He heard the voice's footsteps moving to the left side of him. "You're not bad looking either. No wonder your brother enjoys fucking that tight ass of yours."

Sam's breath hitched, brain suddenly lost of all thoughts. "That's right. I know who you and your brother really are. I've seen the way you two interact with each other; the looks, the lingering hands, the quick kisses when you thought you were all alone," the voice sneered, "It's disgusting. Do you get off on fucking mommy and daddy too?"

Sam gritted his teeth, anger seeping throughout his entire body. How dare this man who barely knew anything about him and his family judge him and Dean. Sam shouted into the gag, cursing at the man who assumed he knew enough to voice an opinion in his and Dean's relationship. The man chuckled, clearly amused by the young hunter.

"I was thinking about grabbing your fuckbuddy but since you were the only one who can truly help me with a certain problem I had to settle for you," a rough hand gripped Sam's cheeks hard enough to leave bruises, "But now seeing you up close I'm glad I made the right decision."

Sam barely suppressed the shudder when he felt the other hand trail down to his chest, gently stroking the clothed skin. The uncomfortable warmth around his ear replaced the cold stale atmosphere that was previously around it and Sam knew his captor was leaning down to his ear before he even spoke.

"We're going to have so much fun together."

As soon as the words left the man's mouth, Sam felt a pinch in his neck. He squirmed in his bonds, but the drug was already spreading through his body, shutting it down. The man removed his hand from Sam's face and walked away. Sam heard the door slam shut as the footsteps faded away. As he surrendered to the dark, Sam's thoughts turned to the one person who he can always count on for help.

_Dean..._

******

_Des Moines, Iowa_

Dean tapped the steering wheel of the 1967 Chevy Impala to the beat of Rock of Ages as he pulled off the highway. What should have been an hour drive had taken thirty extra minutes for Dean's cheeseburger to be recooked and to make another chicken salad for Sam since the workers screwed up the first time and accidentally gave someone else their food. Dean thought it would have been quick to pick up food. Ever since Sam had confessed that he had been seeing Lucifer everywhere, Dean hadn't really let Sam out of his sight for long. He decided to let Sam be alone for longer than a couple minutes after they had a small dispute about it.

 _"Dean I get that your worried and I appreciate the concern, but you can leave me alone for a couple of hours. I'll be fine."_ When Sam gave him the damn puppy dog eyes, Dean knew he had to let Sam win this round. He could never say no to those eyes.

"Stupid restaurant. Stupid newbie. Next time I'm ordering some damn pizza," Dean muttered, turning down his headlights as he got to the parking lot. The dim neon sign read 'Leafford Motel, Vacancy,' the 'L' and 'A' completely blown out. When Dean pulled the keys out of the ignition, he felt as if something was... off. Growing up with John Winchester, the two brothers had learned to trust their instincts if something seemed even the slightest bit off.

 _"If you want to survive you have to keep your guard up. If you leave it down for even a second, you or Sam will end up dead,"_ John Winchester had once said to his ten year old son. Since Dean's life was dedicated to protecting Sam, he made sure that his senses were always sharp and on point.

Dean, food forgotten, got out of the car and ran over to their motel room. He pulled out his gun and took the safety off before unlocking the door. He cautiously walked in, glancing around the room.

"Sam?" He took a couple more steps before he saw the other side of the small room. The wooden coffee table was shattered, the legs no longer supporting it. As Dean walked over, he noticed a fresh spot near the table on the ratty stained carpet that made his stomach turn.

Blood.

"Sammy?"

Dean reached into his pocket and grabbed his phone, ready to call Sam-hoping that maybe he had a big hallucination and ran out of the shitty motel just to calm down-when Dean looked over at the bed. He noticed a few things. The pillowcase was missing on Sam's bed. When Dean looked closer, he noticed that Sam's normally made bed was a bit ruffled as well. He then saw something shine underneath the bed. He got to his knees and reached for the object, cursing under his breath as it pricked him. "Son of a bitch," he muttered as he pulled out an empty syringe. His brow furrowed in confusion. They didn't carry around syringes in the first aid kit. They usually took medication orally since it was the cheapest and Sam had a small phobia of needles so Dean tried to avoid them as much as possible. When Dean stood up, he saw something sitting on top of Sam's messy bed.

He grabbed it and examined it. It was a letter, with one word written on the front;

_Dean._

Dean wrinkled his brow in confusion. He didn't know anyone with the handwriting, but whoever it was had some damn nerve both taking his brother and intentionally leaving something behind. He opened the letter and began reading its contents.

_"Hello Dean; You might not remember me, but I sure as hell never forgot you. I know about your relationship with Sam and it sickens me. You two deserve to go to Hell for that. I stopped by for a 'visit' but you weren't here. Luckily Sam was and boy did he put up a fight. I nearly forgotten how tough you two were but I was still able to take him down. Hopefully you didn't need the coffee table. I'm afraid you will never see your precious Sammy ever again. You took away the one person in my life that I loved. Now it's time for you to see how it feels to know that someone killed your loved one and you're too damn powerless to stop it. Say goodbye to your brother. I hope your last time was something you sick fuck will remember."_

Dean reread the letter two, three, four times, until the words finally connected to his brain.

_"Say goodbye to your brother."_

Dean suddenly forgot how to breath. His mind was racing, heart pounding loudly in his chest. He began to hyperventilate, the content of the letter bringing Dean down to his knees.

"SAMMY!!!"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam discovers what the man wants with him. Dean calls up someone for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. I am just blown away with the responses for this. Thank you for the kudos, reviews, follows, and favorites it really means a lot to me. This is actually the fastest I've ever posted a chapter. I apologize for any errors and spelling mistakes. I have been very tired today (daylight saving sucks) but I will look at this again soon.
> 
> By the way this jumps back to how Sam was captured and what is currently happening.

When he woke up the first thing he noticed the blindfold was off. He blinked faster, trying to lessen the blur of the lights. Once his vision cleared, he slowly lifted his head up groaning at the sudden wave of nausea that hit him due to the drug administrated in him and the stupid concussion.

Sam recalled waiting for Dean to get back from the restaurant. He was cleaning out his gun-more out of boredom than obligation- while Lucifer was being a pain in the ass again, reminding Sam of all his failures and the lives lost because of him. He had to press down onto the scar three times because Lucifer kept on coming back. He heard a knock on the door and was thankful for it since it took his mind off of the devil and his new obsession with playing what sounded like an off key, mediocre version of Highway to Hell on the harmonica. Sam figured Dean might have forgotten his key or had too much to carry.

"That was fast," Sam said to himself as he set his gun down on his bed and unlocked the door. "Did you miss rush hour?" he called out to Dean as he opened the door. The next thing he knew, he was stumbling backwards from a punch delivered to his face.

Sam placed a hand on the corner of his mouth, feeling blood. He looked up and saw someone with a black ski mask enter the motel room. Sam pulled out Ruby's knife and was about to reach for the Holy water when he noticed the salt lines were still intact.

The intruder was human.

Sam avoided another punch from the man and delivered his own punch to the intruder in the face and pushed him down onto the coffee table. The worn table broke under the man's weight. The man spat out blood as he rolled off the remains of the table. Sam spun around, heading to the bed where he put his gun but he was stopped when he felt a pair of hands grab his arms and pull him back. Sam struggled against the man's grip before feeling something cold and hard clamp down on his wrists. The man wrapped one arm around the hunter's neck and pulled him closer.

"You'll pay for that," the man hissed in Sam's ear. Sam felt the man tighten his arm, constricting Sam's breathing. His lungs began to burn, demanding for the oxygen he couldn't get. His vision started to blur.

With no other option, Sam kicked back, hitting the man in the knee. The man loosened his grip on Sam as he swore. Sam pulled out the man's grasp, gasping for the air his starved lungs needed before heading towards the open door. If he could get to the parking lot maybe someone would see him and help. They usually tried to avoid attention as much as possible but Sam needed to get as far away from the intruder as he could. He was almost out the door when he felt something hit the back of his head. Sam fell to his knees before strong hands pushed him down, his back hitting the floor. Sam grimaced as his head hit the floor. He saw the man carelessly toss the broken table leg-probably the thing he used on Sam- back into the pile that used to be the table before closing the door and pulling Sam away from it. He rolled Sam onto his back and straddled the younger man's waist.

"Are you trying to make this harder for yourself?" he asked while pulling out a syringe. Sam saw the needle and squirmed underneath the weight of the man.

"Stop moving," he snapped. Sam brought his knees up and hit the man's back as hard he could but the only thing he was rewarded with was with another punch to his face. As his head went to the side Sam felt a pinch in his neck. He tensed as the contents of the vile were emptied out into his body. "There. Was that so hard?" he said as he stood up and watched his victim struggle against the handcuffs and the drug. "The more you move the faster the my little cocktail will spread throughout your blood system."

"Who are you," Sam slurred. He was trying his hardest to stay awake but the drugs in him were already taking it's effect. "None of your concern for now kid." The man responded. The pain in the back of his head caused Sam to moan as he watched the man pull out a pencil and paper and began to write something down.

"Uh oh. Deano won't like this now will he," Sam heard Lucifer say from across the room. If Sam could he would glare at the hallucination but he didn't have the strength to do more than say the one word that was on his mind.

"De," he muttered softly. His tongue felt like it was replaced with lead. It took everything in Sam to say even part of the word that meant both the world and security to him.

"Dean can join in the fun soon. Right now, it's just you and me Sammy-boy."

The rest of his memory ended in with the man grabbing the pillowcase from his bed and pulling it over his head.

******  
"Rise and shine princess," the voice from earlier brought Sam out of the memory. Sam groaned, watching the man as he walked into his sight and sat down on a folding chair he brought with him. His captor was wearing dark denim jeans and an olive colored t-shirt and a black leather jacket. He looked to be about thirty, but the look in his emerald eyes made him look older. Sam knew that look- he saw it in the mirror everyday. He must have been through a traumatic loss.

"You don't remember me do you?" the man said as he ran a hand through his short brown hair. "You don't remember how last year you two hunted Mandy Duran, a witch that was killing people in Stratford and you two told her husband that she was murdering innocent lives. You stalled the husband while your partner found all the evidence he needed to prove that she was the killer." Sam studied the man for a moment before it hit him. The man gave a low chuckle as Sam stared at him, wide eyed.

"Now you remember me. Ryan Duran's the name. Your brother," Ryan sneered, "killed my wife and told me she was a witch, the one responsible for killing all those people. Of course I knew she was the one. She was getting revenge on those who cheated on her, stole from her, mocked her. She only harmed the ones who diserved it." He stood up and walked over to his prisoner. He cupped Sam's face in his hand, studying the lump on the side of Sam's head, the one that he had earned when he had knocked the younger man out.

"Your brother killed the one person I loved and cherished in this horrible world and now," he squeezed Sam's cheeks even harder, smirking as the man winced, "I get to watch Dean fall apart the same way I did." Sam's eyes widened as he shook his head, pleads muffled behind the tape. Ryan pulled his arm back and clocked Sam in the face, just shy of hitting his nose. Sam's head shot back, the chair falling down onto the cement and taking it's prisoner with it. Sam groaned, feeling something wet seeping from his head. He knew he probably earned another concussion but that was the least of his problems. Ryan kneeled over Sam, ignoring the glaring the man was giving him.

"The fact that your his brother makes it a hell of a lot better than just his lover," Ryan said before spitting on the young hunter's face and walking away from the man, leaving Sam on the cold ground.

******

Rufus' cabin wasn't like his home. For one thing it was a cabin. It didn't have a garage lot, a second floor, or the old wooden desk Bobby owned, cluttered with books of lore, weapons, research, and a bottle or two of whiskey. There however was a beer stain on the couch, so that somewhat resembled his old home. Still, it didn't quite feel the same. Bobby groaned when he heard the phone going off. Only the Winchester's knew his number, but random people have been calling for a "Brian Murphy" and it was taking everything in Bobby to not have a screaming match with caller. But as Bobby walked over to the outdated phone and answered it, he coudn't help the words that spilt out of his mouth.

"Listen this isn't Brian Murphy," Bobby said, "and if you're trying to sell me inspirational signs or other useless decorations for my house it burned down so stop calling before I-"

"Bobby," Dean cut the man off as soon as he heard the begining of what could be a long threat, "Sam's missing." Bobby placed the bottle of liquor he found in the outdated kitchen down on the old desk.

"What the hell happened Dean? Don't tell me you left him alone." The stretched silence from the other end gave Bobby the answer he was dreading to hear.

"Balls," Bobby sighed walked over to a drawer, his knees creaking from all the years of hunting and stress and old age. He pulled out a pen and notepad. "Where are you now?"

"Des Moines, Iowa in a shitty motel called the Leafford." Bobby wrote down the name of the motel before he talked to the young, obviously nervous man on the other line.

"I'll leave in about five minutes. I'll be there by morning." Dean let out a breath, obviously relieved he still had someone who can help them out. "Thanks Bobby, you're the best."

"Don't mention it. Just try to find out where the damn idget could be you idget," Bobby muttered before hanging up. Dean tossed his phone onto the single queen size bed, and sat down on the bed rubbing his mouth.

"Damn it Sammy," he choked out, tears starting to fill his eyes. He quickly wiped them away. He needed to be strong. For the both of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates probably won't be as fast as this but this story is my #1 writing priority so I will try to update it as soon as I can.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The hallucinations start to show up and bug Sam. Dean and Bobby ask around to see if anyone knows anything about Sam's abduction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has to be some sort of new record for me. I almost never update stories within a week but I am really invested in this story and I can't wait for you guys to read it. I have to warn everyone there is mention of past non-con in this chapter. It doesn't go into detail and you might be able to gloss over it but I'm just putting a warning just in case.
> 
> Enjoy.

_"Sammy."_

Sam breathing hitched at the voice. _Not here please not here not here not here-_

"Poor little Sammy. All trussed up and nowhere to go," the voice purred. A callous but gentle hand began to stroke Sam's thigh. Ryan must have came in while Sam was out and picked him and the chair back up because Sam was off the cold ground and staring into the eyes of the devil himself. "Just like when you were my bitch inside the cage." Sam looked away from Lucifer, silently chanting to himself, _"he's not here, he's not here, he's not here."_  Sam wanted-needed-Lucifer to go away. He began rubbing his hand with the scar back and forth on the arm of the chair, trying to apply pressure to the scar but the hallucination didn't disappear. It didn't even flicker.

"Aw Sammy, I'm hurt," Lucifer put a hand over his heart, mock hurt on his face. The hurt was quickly replaced with a sly smile as he slid his hand up Sam's thigh. He then moved his hand further up Sam's thigh until his hand was over Sam's clothed crotch. Memories of times in the Cage where Lucifer would touch him with the same gentle way before beginning his routine torture flooded his mind. Tears unknowingly started streaming down Sam's face and past the duct tape. Lucifer lifted his thumb up to Sam's face and wiped away the tears. Fresh tears soon followed.

"Come on Sammy, those are good memories. Remember all those times you called out for Dean while I literally split you in two on my-"

The door creaked as it swung opened. Lucifer spun around, grinning as Ryan enter the room. "Well, I guess I'll just stick around for this," he stepped back and sat on the ground near the chair Sam was tied to. Sam stared at the Devil, shaking his head.

"What's the matter kid? See something you don't like?" Ryan smirked, enjoying the fear in Sam's eyes. He knelt down and roughly ripped the tape from Sam's mouth. Sam flinched, somehow suppressing the urge to cry out. Ryan forced Sam's mouth open and reached into it to pull out the white washcloth, pasty with Sam's saliva.

Ryan put the washcloth on the cart and reached for a glass of water that Sam hadn't notice was there. He held the glass up to Sam's closed lips. "You need to drink. I can't have you dying of dehydration before the fun begins."

Sam kept his lips closed tight. Although he was parched he knew better than to drink something his captor gave to him. It could be poisoned or roofied or-

Sam's thoughts were interrupted when he felt a hand roughly grip his hair and pull it back. He made a small noise of protest but Ryan too that as an opportunity to pour the water down Sam's open mouth, spilling some on Sam's shirt. Before the hunter could spit it back up, Ryan threw the cup and placed a hand over his mouth, ensuring that he could not spit out the water.

"Don't worry kid, I didn't roofie it or anything. I want you to be conscience of what I am going to do to you," he said before he removed his hand from Sam's mouth. Before Sam could open his mouth to speak, or possibly try to coax his way out of whatever the man had in store for him, Ryan grabbed the back of Sam's head and crushed his lips against Sam's.

This mouth was nothing like Dean's. Dean's was smooth, soft, and sometimes smelled like peppermint since Dean likes to chew on peppermints when he finds them at the gas station. These lips were chapped and hard and tasted faintly of weed. Their teeth clashed, causing Sam to moan in pain. Ryan managed to slip his tongue into Sam's mouth as he moaned. "Oh guy on guy is the best. Don't you agree Sammy?" Lucifer grinned at the struggling man.

Tears leaked out of Sam's eyes due to the force of the kiss. With no other option, Sam bit down hard on the rough tongue invading his mouth. Ryan yelped and jumped back, blood dripping from his mouth. Sam spit out the blood remaining in his mouth at the ground. Ryan glared at Sam before pulling the cart closer to them.

"So, pretty boy doesn't like romance huh? Well it looks like we get to play rough faster than I expected." Ryan grabbed a roll of tape on the table and ripped off a piece before slamming it down on his captive's mouth, disregarding the man's glare.

"I'm guessing you're a kinky bastard and you really enjoy this," Ryan said, still ignoring the bitchface Sam shot at him. He was contemplating on how to silently respond to Ryan's accusation when he felt a callous hand- different from Lucifer's own hand- lay on his thigh and began stroking, causing him to whimper. Memories of Hell and Lucifer ghosting over his naked body flashed through his mind.

"No, fleas, fop," Sam cried out, the gag garbling his words. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lucifer sitting criss crossed, a big smile on his face.

"Aww, he's reenacting our first time in the cage," the Devil chuckled, the horrified look on Sam's face the source of his laughter.

"What, you don't get off on your brother touching you like this?" Ryan moved his hand up Sam's thigh and placed it over Sam's clothed crotch. Sam squirmed harder, the memories growing stronger, almost overpowering his mind.

"I should've removed your clothes before I tied you down," Ryan reached for Sam's zipper, ignoring the shake of the young man's head, "but I can still make this work." Sam tried to make his mind go blank, tried to replace the memories of hell with something pleasant.

_Jess taking him to their first dinner date. It rained and they had parked the car in the parking lot across the dinner so they were drenched by the time they got to the car but Jess was laughing. She loved rain._

Ryan began pulling the zipper down.

_Dean taking him to see his first R-rated movie._

_Dean's smile._

_His first kiss with Dean._

_Dean's rare laugh._

_His first time with Dean._

_Dean's smile, the one only meant for him._

_Dean._

He didn't notice when Ryan put his hand in his boxers until Sam felt him squeeze his cock. He tensed, the foreign feeling of someone other than Dean touching him was enough to make Sam hyperventilate. He somehow controlled his breathing, reminding himself that he had to breath properly or else he would suffocate.

"Very proportional," he admired. "You'd be a nice fuck. If only you weren't in an incestuous relationship with Dean." Sam sighed with relief through his nose when Ryan pulled his hand out his boxers. He was too caught up in thinking about what Ryan could have done when he felt a sharp pain on the surface of his abdomen. He hadn't noticed the blade Ryan had in his hand until he cut him with it. He had bunched Sam's shirt up to his armpits and held it there while he cut the skin that had experienced this same kind of pain enough times in both life and Hell that it was anything but foreign. It wasn't deep enough for him to lose too much blood, but it still stung.

"That's for your brother murdering my wife," Ryan said. He placed the knife over the lower left side of Sam's face and applied enough pressure to break the skin. Sam tried not to flinch as he felt blood slid down his neck.

"That's for you trying to stall me while Dean killed Mandy," he sneered. He put the tip of the knife over Sam's chest. Sam didn't dare move a muscle, he didn't dare to breath as Ryan slowly dug the knife into the skin above his anti-possession tattoo. Before it could go in deep enough to damage something vital Ryan pulled out the knife and Sam let out the breath he was holding. He suddenly felt Ryan dig his fingers into the wound and pry it open, causing the younger man to let out a muffled cry of pain. He felt the blood sliding down his chest, the crimson liquid stinging the cut on his abdomen as it rushed over it.

"And that's for fucking your own flesh and blood."

******

The knock on the motel door was the first thing that went right since Dean had found the motel room empty. Dean opened the door and was greeted with the sight of hope.

"Took your damn time," Dean muttered, knowing he deserved the glare the older hunter shot him.

"It was either take my time in traffic when police were around or get arrested and be too late to find Sam," Bobby spat out. "Even if I came a minute after you called you would still believe I was late."

Dean grew up idolizing Bobby. The man became a second father to him, and eventually he filled the hole in his heart that John had created when he died. Bobby always had a feeling that Sam and Dean were more than brothers; so when he found them in the room that Bobby had let them call their's, naked bodies and tangled limbs on top of the bed sheets, Bobby told them that they didn't have to hide it anymore. In that moment, Dean knew that Bobby was the best man anyone would ever know.

Bobby examined the mess in the room and saw the blood spots next to the broken table and the syringe on the floor.

"So, tell me what happened before Sam was taken."

Dean pulled out the cheap liquor he had in his duffle bag and took a swig before answering his surrogate father. "I had to get dinner but I didn't want to leave Sam alone since the freaking Devil is occupying his mind and-"

"Let me guess, Sam used his secret weapon on you?"

"I never should have taught him the puppy dog eyes," Dean muttered. "Anyways I went to get dinner but the stupid restaurant switched our order and had to recook it so it took longer than I thought it would and when I came back," Dean waved his hands around the room, "I find this mess and no Sasquatch."

"There has to be someone that heard the racket in here. After all Sam didn't go down without a fight and someone had to hear this," Bobby suggested. Dean took another sip of the liquor and focused on the burn of the amber liquid sliding down his throat. He looked up at the older man, realizing that he had not replied yet.

"There are only three rooms checked out in this motel and the only one close to this one is two doors down. Not only that but I tried to check the surveillance cameras but whoever has Sam must have cut the wires or something because there's nothing on the surveillance video."

"How do you know it's human?" Bobby asked. Dean picked up the letter he had been studying for hours off the bed and handed it to Bobby. He watched the older man's face change from concern to fury to shock as he read the letter.

"So whoever has Sam not only has some sort of beef with me but he knows about Sammy and I," Dean said, sitting down on the bed furthest from the door-Sam's bed- and rubbing a hand over tired eyes. "Sam's mind is still fragile. He's seeing Hell everywhere. He doesn't need this crap on top of it. He doesn't deserve this," Dean looked up at Bobby and continued, "I just got him back. I can't lose him again."

Bobby watched the oldest Winchester fight the tears for half a minute before sighing and sitting next to the man he considered a son since the day John brought them over to his house. "We'll find him Dean. We'll find him and give that bastard hell for taking him," Bobby said. He didn't call Dean out when he saw the tears sliding down his cheek. Dean already had enough on his plate.

******

After Dean had some time to cool down, Bobby suggested they try to ask anyone in the motel if they've seen anything. So there they were, twelve minutes later, wearing their FBI outfits- thankfully Bobby brought his with him- knocking on the door of the only occupied room. They had tried the other room but apparently they were out, probably getting breakfast or something. Dean could try to interrogate them later but now he had to work with what they had.

They heard the lock click as the door opened, revealing a young curvy woman with brunette hair wearing sleep pants and a plain gray t-shirt. Dean would have hit on the woman years ago, when he and Sam were still hiding their true feelings about each other, but now all Dean could think about now was his brother in the hands of some psychopath who was using Sam to hurt him.

"Can I help you?" she asked, obviously annoyed at being disturbed early in the morning. Dean whipped out the FBI badge and flashed it to the woman. Bobby did the same and Dean was yet again thankful that he came prepared.

"I'm Agent Young and this is Agent Johnson. We wanted to ask you a couple of questions about a kidnapping we believe happened here last night." The woman looked over at the TV, watching whatever program was playing.

"Hang on," she said.

"Mam, we really need to talk to you."

"But I haven't seen this episode of Say Yes to the Dress yet," she replied, eyes glued to the television. Dean felt something snap. He pushed the door wide open and stomped over to the TV and turned it off.

"Hey you can't barge in here like that!" the lady yelled. Dean straightened himself so he was at full height, looking down at the average size woman. He was sort of hoping he would intimidate the woman but she didn't even bat an eyelash at him.

"What the hell do you want? What's so important that you have to interupt me during Say Yes to the Dress?" She sounded pissed but Dean would gladly risk bothering the woman if it meant he would be one step closer to finding Sam.

"Listen uh-"

"Beverly," the woman said, arms crossed underneath her chest, tapping her foot as she waited to hear what the man had to say.

"Listen Beverly, my partner was taken last night and I don't have any leads and I am pretty damn desperate right now so please tell me if you noticed anything last night," he demeaned. Beverly examined Dean, a smirk crossing her face.

"By partner you mean FBI buddy or lover?"

"This isn't the time for jokes. Just tell me if you saw anything." Beverly's features softened as she saw the not only the desperate look in the tall man's eyes, but worry and hidden compassion as well. "You love him don't you?" she asked. Dean suddenly found the water stain that seemed to decorate the walls of every room in the motel.

"I'll take that as a yes," she said. The woman tilted her head to the side, thinking about last night. "Well I heard a thud in the room but I thought it was just someone having some crazy angry sex. There was some talking too but it was too quiet to hear anything. Then after a while I didn't hear anyone talking. Just moans and footsteps."

"Anything else?" Bobby asked.

"I saw a car park in front of the room but it left ten minutes later."

"What kind of car was it?"

"I'm not good with car models, that's more my boyfriends thing since he's a mechanic, but it was a black mini-van and the license plate had like a 'QZN'. Or was it 'PZM'? Maybe it was. I don't really know but it had to be one of those two." Bobby wrote down the details of the car on the yellow notepad he brought with him.

"Is that it?"

"Yeah I thinks so," Beverly said. She then gasped. "Wait, I saw someone carry something out of the room before they took off. Do you think it was your partner?" she questioned. Dean took a deep breath, the thought of the woman being so close to witness his brother's abduction but doing nothing to stop it was enough to make Dean want to shoot the woman but he couldn't afford to lose his temper now. Time was of the essence and he had none to waste.

"I believe so," he said, a bit shocked at how calm he managed to sound.

"How did you see all of this?" Bobby asked the woman.

"I was getting bored of watching the news and those armatures they call reporters and I would look out the window every now and then."

"If you saw something like this why didn't you call us?" Dean was glad that Bobby came with him. He couldn't have asked that without throttling the woman.

"I don't know. I thought that it was some kind of kinky roleplay or something like that I guess," she shrugged.

"Alright, thank you for your time mam," Dean said.

"I hope you find your partner," the woman gave Dean a small smile. Dean pulled out a business card and held it out for the woman to take.

"If you remember something else about what happened give us a call," he instructed her.

"Okay," she replied. Dean walked out of the room while Beverly turned on the TV. Bobby followed Dean but before he left he spun around and looked at the TV.

"By the way, that is a good episode," Bobby commented before walking out with Dean.

"Uh thanks?" Beverly said watching the two men exit her room.

Once they got out of the room, Dean turned around to face Bobby and held out his hand. Bobby gave him the notepad and watched as the oldest Winchester riffled through the pages of the notes.

"Bobby, we need to hack into the security cameras around town and find out where that car was heading," he said.

"Problem is the only one who can actually hack into the cameras is the one we're trying to find," Bobby sighed and ran a hand over the bald patch on his head.

"Well we have to try," Dean said. "I'm not waiting for any clues while Sam is god knows where with some maniac who is using him as bait."

Bobby nodded and headed to the Winchester's motel room. "You damn idgets are gonna be the death of me," he muttered to himself. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came out a bit different than I originally planned it to be but I like this much better than my original idea. I plan to update soon. Have a nice weekend :)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam wants nothing more than to escape but he believes Dean's welfare is more important. Dean and Bobby finally find hope at the place they least expected it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone I apologize for not updating earlier. I write my fanfics on my phone but it has been on the fritz lately and I couldn't really write without it crashing. Anyways I want to thank everyone for the follows/favorites/reviews/kudos. Seeing them has really made me happy and motivated me to write more. I am a little unsure about this chapter (I always am) but I finally had the guts to post it. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter (and I hope I don't seem like a psychopath because I'm not really).

_Have to get out..._

Sam couldn't think past the mantra he had been repeating for the last hour.

_Have to get out... let Dean know I'm okay..._

He thrashed in his bonds, trying to slip out of them. His wrists were torn from rubbing them against the zip-ties for so long. He hoped the blood pooling from his wrists could be used as a lubricant and help him escape. But he was a Winchester and Winchester luck was never good.

_Find Dean find Dean find Dean..._

He's going to go even more insane with the stupid hallucination's soliloquy.

"To be or not to be? Isn't that always the question you ask yourself Sam?" the Devil paced back and fourth, ignoring the glare the hunter gave him.

"Come on Sammy you're a Winchester. Aren't you guys supposed to be the hunters that instill terror into the things that go bump in the night? Because frankly I'm disappointed."

_"Fuck off,"_ Sam mentally shot at Lucifer.

"Don't give me that look Sammy. You put yourself in this mess. We'll technically Dean did but you had a part in that stupid witch's murder." Lucifer bent down until he was eye to eye with Sam. He placed his hand on Sam's cheek and softy caressed it, ignoring the way the man winced when he touched the dark bruise.

"I don't like when others play with my toys," Lucifer said, gently brushing his thumb over the cut on Sam's other cheek in an almost loving way. Sam shivered at the feel of Lucifer's touch. It reminded him of all the times in the cage when the Devil would break him apart, physically and mentally, and after he would put him back together with a touch almost as gentle as Dean's.

_"Not a toy,"_ Sam would have put more heat into his glare if he wasn't too focused on slipping out of the restraints. He could feel blood start to pour from the fresh open wound on his left ankle caused by rubbing against the zip-tie.

"Well you're my toy Sammy. I can play with you all I want and if you break I can just fix you so I can play with you some more." Sam deliberately chose to ignore the Devil and his claims and continued working on loosening the restraints.

"That's not going to work kid."

Sam huffed out a breath, meaning to come out annoyed but came out sounding exhausted. He didn't look at Ryan until he was standing right in front of him. Ryan lifted up Sam's bloodstained shirt and examined the gash on his chest. "Red's a good color on you," he muttered as he continued to study the hunter. "Good thing you didn't bleed out from this. It would be such a shame to loose you so soon."

Ryan loosened his grip on the shirt, allowing it to fall back and cover his prisoner's wounds. "Most people would probably be begging for me to stop by now. I wouldn't know, this is my first time torturing someone. I have a feeling you and your brother had loads of practice with this. So on top of incest you two have probably tortured others and commit murder."

Sam didn't pay attention to the man due to the distraction only he could see. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched as Lucifer blurted out the first verse to Bohemian Rhapsody.

_"I'm just a poor boy, I need no sympathy..."_ he sang off key.

_"I really don't deserve this..."_ Sam thought.

"Hey!" Sam groaned when Ryan slapped his face on the side that he had cut not too long ago. "Pay attention you little slut." Sam gave the man a heated look, but it was dismissed with a laugh from Ryan.

"I think we should move you somewhere more... comfortable," Ryan said.

"I agree," Lucifer said, standing behind Ryan. "In fact throw him back into Hell. His bunk buddy is very lonely and bored."

Sam was about to shoot the hallucination a mental finger when Ryan stepped to the side to reveal something that made Sam's heart stop.

 He didn't really understand how he missed the bed the other times he was conscience, but he wished that he was as oblivious to it as he was not even five seconds ago. The mattress looked to be about ten years older than he was. From where Sam was sitting, it looked like there were tears in the mattress and a few dark stains as well. The headboard was not wood but instead made up of steel that had four steel bars inside the headboard. Handcuffs were attached to the outer edge of the headboard. Sam somehow managed to keep his face blank, not showing any kind of fear, but he was sure his eyes deceived him. They probably showed the hidden fear he somehow managed to suppress. He could only imagine what Ryan would want with the bed and he hoped to whatever he and Dean believed in that it wouldn't be used for what he was thinking of.

Ryan pulled a knife out of his back pocket and began cutting the zip-tie off Sam's ankles. "I'll make a deal with you," he said as he cut through the restraint on Sam's left ankle, "If you cooperate and don't try anything stupid I won't hurt your precious brother. Try anything and I'll slit your throat before stopping by that incestious cockslut and giving him a death much more painful than you can imagine."

Sam would have defied the threat but he couldn't put Dean in danger. After everything they've been through, Sam would rather gut himself than let something bad happen to his brother. With the thought of Dean's safety in mind, Sam didn't try to run off or fight the man when he cut the zip-ties holding his wrists and biceps to the chair.

"Don't try anything stupid if you know what's good for your brother," Ryan warned before pulling Sam's arm, forcing the young hunter to stand up. Sam stood up, a wave of vertigo hitting him from standing up too quickly after spending many hours sitting in the chair. Ryan grabbed Sam's arm and held the knife over his throat as he led Sam over to the bed.

Once they reached it Ryan pushed Sam down onto the hard, filthy mattress. He sat on top of Sam and grabbed his wrists with one hand and reached for one of the handcuffs with the other.

Sam promised himself he would not do anything to put Dean in harms way, but he still wouldn't let his captor manhandle him onto the poor excuse for a bed and restrain him-again-without a fight. Sam slipped his right hand free from Ryan's grasp. He managed to land a punch in Ryan's face, close to his nose. Ryan's head shot back, but his hold on Sam only got tighter. He grabbed Sam's right wrist and twisted it back. He twisted it until a loud snap echoed in the warehouse. Sam's muffled screams followed, filling the atmosphere. He had his share of broken bones in his life as a hunter, but it still hurt.

"You could've just let me handle you nicely kid," Ryan said while he attached the handcuff to Sam's broken wrist. Sam groaned in pain, his head falling back onto the mattress. Ryan secured his other wrist to the other side of the headboard before he walked over to the cart and grabbed a coil of rope. He went to the end of the bed and tied Sam's ankles to the bedposts, spreading Sam out. Ryan stood back and studied his handiwork.

"Something's missing," he said. He walked over to the table and grabbed another length of rope. Ryan strolled back to Sam and tied the rope around the struggling hunter's neck before securing it to one of the metal bars on the headboard. "That's better," he said. He wiped away the lone tear that escaped Sam's eyelid and cascaded down his cheek.

"I could have been cruel to you Sammy," he said, ignoring the loathing glare Sam gave him. "I could have tied you to a bed with no mattress or I could have stopped by Dean and finished him off. Just be happy that I'm choosing to leave him out of this for now," he said. Ryan started walking out of the small room but when he reached the door he turned around and looked at his captive.

"One word of advice; don't move too much kid. That's only for insurance," he pointed to the rope around the hunter's neck. "I don't want you to strangle yourself but if you pull this rope tight enough you will," he explained to the younger man before walking out of the room.

As soon as his tormentor left, Sam began thrashing in his new bonds. He knew it was sort of pointless, the metal burned against the torn flesh, but he didn't care. The only thought on his mind was Dean and his safety.

His broken wrist was on fire. After what felt like hours but might have only been about five minutes, Sam stopped struggling and instead focused on finding a way to make the pain bearable, but with the way his arms were stretched ensured that Sam would not be able to find a comfortable position. Sam couldn't help the tears that yet again decided to spill from his eyelids. He knew that if his dad was still alive he would be disappointed when he saw how many times Sam had already shed tears.

_"Real men don't cry," John Winchester said to his sons after a hunt that ended with Dean needing five stitches. The poltergeist they hunted was more pissed than they had originally thought. They were in the middle of salting and burning the body when Dean, fourteen at the time, was thrown into a headstone by the spirit. After John burned the bones, he found Sam at a Dean's side. A piece of the headstone had fallen on top of the frightened teen and Sam was trying to push it off. Dean was crying softly, the amount of pain the stone on his back too much for anyone to handle at his age. John had helped Sam push it off of Dean, only to discover that some parts of the stone had cut Dean's back. Luckily, the cuts weren't too deep, but they still required stitching._

_Back at the motel, John worked on patching Dean up, reminding him about concealing pain._

_"If you show weakness to anything you'll get yourself and others around you killed," John said to Dean as he stitched his back._

That was the day Dean had stopped showing emotions that he believed made him weak.

Their dad might be gone, but the reminder of how Sam had failed yet again to listen to John's instructions stung.

Sorry dad...

******

Dean groaned, elbow planted on the table, his head resting in his palm. Sam's computer was on the cheap table, the monitor displaying Sam's plain, bland background. He had been staring at the computer for over an hour, trying to figure out where to start.

"How the hell can someone hack into these things?" he muttered. Dean was no Einstein, but that didn't mean he didn't have some spark of genius in him. Sam was good with computers and research, but Dean was good at strategy and figuring out things that could help solve a case. Sam would praise him for being smart, claim that he was also a genius. Dean would blush at that or wave his brother off, but he secretly enjoyed hearing someone say he was smart, especially the nerd who was his brother.

Dean smiled as he thought about Sam and his praises before realizing that no matter how smart Sam may say he is, he couldn't hack into the traffic cameras and if he couldn't hack into the cameras then he might as well find a demon to make a deal with to help him. Sure, Sam would be angry if he found out that Dean had made a deal again but Dean was willing to do whatever it took to find Sam.

Sometimes he wondered how many times the world would do this dance with him; take Sam away, hurt him or kill him, force Dean to make drastic decisions or sacrifice his own life. It was almost like the universe thought this was some big joke, that the universe enjoyed destroying Dean Winchester by hurting his brother.

"Any luck?" Dean was brought out of his brooding by the voice that had been absent for the last half hour. He looked at the older hunter as he entered the room and sighed. He knew that Bobby was just trying to help and he was more than grateful for it but the more Bobby asked the more Dean felt like a failure.

"No. You?" Bobby shook his head.

"Just as stuck as you are." He had finished interrogating the couple that rented the other room, who were so drunk they would have put John Winchester to shame. He had even looked around the parking lot trying to find anything that could help find Sam but he came up with nothing. "The couple that was out this morning said they hadn't seen anything suspicious. Then again, the room reeked of booze and the woman was throwing up so I'm guessing they were too drunk to know left from right, let alone see someone get abducted." Dean groaned and placed his head in both his hands. He rubbed his temples, muttering something Bobby couldn't understand.

"The only lead we have is for someone who couldn't give us anything useful other than confirming it was a kidnapping," he said to Bobby.

"There has to be more Dean. We just have to look around more and-" The knock at the door cut off Bobby's suggestion. Dean stood up, hands clenched into fists.

"I don't have time for this," he murmured as he walked to the door. Dean opened the door, ready to shout at whoever had the audacity to interrupt their search, but instead was baffled by who he saw standing behind the door.

"Beverly?"

The woman they had interrogated an hour and a half ago pushed her recently brushed hair behind her ear. She was wearing jeans, a leather jacket and a green t-shirt, different from the pjs she was sporting earlier. From the looks of it, she was carrying a computer bag on her shoulder.

"Listen Dean I can help you get Sam back," Beverly said as she walked uninvited into the messy motel room. She gave a low whistle as she saw the broken table and blood splatters. "Wow this is bad," she muttered.

"Yeah of course it is Sammy fought the bastard and... wait how do you know his name?" Dean asked. Beverly rolled her eyes.

"You two are really popular in the hunter community," she said. Dean raised an eyebrow, suspicious about the woman standing in front of him.

"You're a hunter? No offense but you don't really look like one." Beverly didn't look as broken down or damaged as most of the hunters Dean had encountered usually do.

"No, my step-brother is. His name is Henry Reed. He said you guys saved him on a Wendigo hunt back in '09 and that he owes you two big time."

Dean thought back to one of the many Wendigo hunts he had in his lifetime and nodded.

"I remember Henry. He thought it was best to split up from the other hunters. He almost became dessert for the hairy bastard if Sam and I didn't save his ass."

"Yeah that sounds like him. Henry can be a bit careless at times. He can also be annoying at times but hey that's siblings for you right?" When Beverly got blank stares from both men instead of the small laugh or chuckle she expected, she tried again. "Wow are all hunters made of stone? Seriously you guys probably don't have a funny bone in your body," she sighed when she saw the lack of change in the hunters' faces before changing the topic. "Anyways, Henry said he owes you and that I should help find your, uh, your brother." Dean noticed the hesitation in her voice when she said "brother".

"Hey I won't judge," she reassured. "I don't understand how or why, but from the look in your eyes when you talk about him shows that you really love him. And I can't oppose true love."

Dean looked down at his shoes, suddenly finding the worn and dirty material interesting. He could feel the heat rise to his face as she stared at him. The only person they had ever discussed their relationship with was Bobby and Castiel, once the angel had gained their trust. Ever since Cas decided to become God or some crap like that and died, Dean could only talk to Bobby about their more than brotherly relationship.

"He doesn't really like talking about this," Bobby said. "He rather not talk about this if you don't mind."

"Yeah sure but I just have something to say. I was right when I said he was your partner wasn't I?"

"How can you help us?" Dean asked desperate to change the topic. He was not in the mood to talk to some girl about his incestious relationship with his brother.

"I taught myself how to hack computers," she said, picking at a small hangnail on her thumb.

"How?"

"I was a very lonely teen who loved computers and had nothing better to do. College helps too, but not necessarily with hacking. They don't approve of that. I help Henry with a couple of cases that required an IT nerd aka me. Not only can I hack computers I can hack into security and traffic cameras as well," she said as she sat down at the table. She pulled her computer out and set it down in front of her. Dean grabbed Sam's computer and put it on the bed farthest from the door. "It might take a few hours but I will be able to get into it."

Dean stood by the bed, speechless.

"You really want to help?" Bobby asked. Beverly pulled a hair tie out of her pocket and tied her brown hair into a ponytail while studying what was produced on the screen.

"Well I have nothing better to do in this rat-trap other than binge watch anything on the basic cable and I have the room for another three days so why not help my brother with his favor?"

Dean wanted to be thankful for this sudden hope but a voice kept nagging at him.

"Why didn't you stop him? You saw what was happening so why didn't you stop it?" Dean asked quietly. The click of the keyboard stopped as Beverly turned to look at the weary man. "Honestly, I was scared. I didn't know if he was some kind of supernatural creature. If it was I wouldn't know what. Henry taught me a thing or two about the monsters but I don't know how identify a demon or shapeshifter and besides I thought it'd be better if you had the only witness alive." Beverly said before turning back to the computer and punched in the keys, her small fingers dancing around the keyboard. A long list of numbers and letters Dean would never be able to understand popped up on the screen. "I can try to hack into the cameras and if I can we should be able to find the footage by tonight."

Dean couldn't bring himself to speak. He was worried his voice would crack and the tears he held in would gush out like a waterfall. Thankfully, Bobby stepped up and told Beverly what Dean wanted to say. "Thank you. We really appreciate this."

"Don't thank me yet. Wait until we find Sam," she replied without taking her eyes off the screen. Her small but strong fingers hit the keyboard once more. "Then once we find him you can thank me all you want."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sammy I should really lay off on him but if I did I wouldn't be writing this fanfic. I wasn't going to have Beverly return but I ended up liking her. I sort of based her off of Felicity Smoak from Arrow (I'm on season 2 and it is crushing what Supernatural had left of my heart).
> 
> Just a little FYI; there will not be any rape in this. I allude to it but I am not writing a rape fic. I just want to make that clear to anyone who is squeamish with that kind of thing. This is dark but I won't write about that.
> 
> Even with my phone acting incredibly stupid and my heart breaking from Arrow and Supernatural I will try to finish the next chapter ASAP.
> 
> Until then, have a nice weekend and Happy Easter :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby and Dean get an important phone call that might help them find Sam.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if this chapter isn't good. I've had a rough week and it sort of cut into my writing. My grandmother-who I am very close to- had a heart attack. She has been in the hospital ever since last Friday. She had a triple bypass and she may need a pacemaker. Also my grandfather-we believe he has Alzheimer's- keeps on forgetting where she is and he keeps on asking us why she's in the hospital and he forgot his brother had kids. And to make it worse my grandparents dog has only a few weeks left to live. It's been a hell of a week and the worst spring break ever. Working on this makes me forget about this for a little while and I am happy that I am able to share this chapter with everyone.
> 
> If I made a mistake or if something seems unclear or worded oddly please tell me so I can fix it. My head isn't in the right place right now (I am really stressed its been a long week) so I think there will be mistakes.
> 
> Anyways I hope everyone likes this chapter.

Sam doesn't really know how much time had passed since Ryan left.

There was no clock in the room to help Sam keep track of the time. Sam wasn't sure how long he had been in this prison, but he knew it was long enough for his brother to start worrying.

His broken wrist still felt like it was a fire that had been built off from acid, but Sam had it worse. One hundred and eighty years of torture and pain in the cage with two pissed archangels helped build up Sam's pain tolerance. He could deal with just a little more pain. 

Sam had tried to slip out of the handcuffs, but they were on too tight. It was nearly impossible for him to slip out of. Not to mention the cool metal against his torn wrists burned. He tried to ignore the pain from both the torn and broken wrists, telling himself that he had worse, but what after felt like hours of struggling and trying to slip out the pain became more noticeable. 

"The more you struggle the more fun it is for me to watch you fail."

Sam rolled his eyes when he heard Ryan enter the room. He was getting tired of the man's sarcasm and annoying comments. 

Ryan immediately walked over to the cart and grabbed a pair of scissors from the cart that contained the blood stained blade he used on Sam earlier before he approached Sam. With skilled hands, he began to cut the seams of Sam's shirt. He ignored the muffled pleas from the man tied to the bed and ripped the remaining threads holding the shirt together off of Sam's body. Ryan placed the scissors back on the table and walked over to Sam's legs. He untied Sam's ankles, grabbed Sam's jeans and slid them off. When he began pulling off Sam's boxers, the hunter began to squirm harder in his bonds. He shot a leg out and managed to hit his captor in the chest. Ryan, as if the kick was from a newborn baby, only huffed out a laugh and held down Sam's legs with one arm. Using the other, he continued to slide Sam's boxers down until they were off his body.

Once Sam’s clothes, and what remained of them, were on the floor, Ryan quickly tied Sam's ankles back to the bedposts. He smiled at the unshed tears the naked man splayed out on the bed produced.

"Come on Sammy, it wont be bad" Ryan reassured the struggling man. He placed his hands on Sam's chest and began sliding them down his toned body. 

"Someone likes to workout.”

Since Sam was soulless for over a year, his soulless, asshole self had done nothing other than having sex, hunting, killing, and work out. He never had the need to eat, which contributed to his lean body. Ever since he woke up in Bobby's panic room, soul restored and all, he began to slowly lose some of the muscle he put on the year he was soulless, but it didn't go away completely. He was still toned and muscular, just not as buff as his crazed, body-builder counterpart. 

"You're not a bad looking kid Sammy," he continued, stroking Sam's chest with an almost loving touch. "Normally I don't roll that way but I wouldn't mind taking that ass and claiming it for myself," Ryan said as he slipped his hand underneath Sam's ass and gripped one of the firm globes. Using his other hand, he traced the dark bruise he had caused earlier around Sam's eye. Sam began to yell at the man behind the gag, which resulted with Ryan chuckling at the muffled threats and curses. 

"Sorry I didn't quite catch that," he said before using the hand he had touched the bruise with to rip the tape off of Sam's lips. He smirked as the young hunter cringed. Ryan then leaned over and crashed his lips against Sam's, grinning as the man tied to the bed struggled to get away from the assault. Ryan bit Sam’s bottom lip hard. Sam groaned when he felt blood rise on his lips.

When Ryan pulled away, lips coated with Sam’s blood, Sam couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped from him.

"You could at least pretend you enjoy this," Ryan said. "It would make it a lot more fun for me and easier for you."

"Just get it over with," Sam spat out, looking away from his captor, not willing to let him see the tears showing his weakness. Too many memories of the cage filled his worrying mind. 

"I'm not going to rape you," Ryan chuckled at the confused look Sam was giving him. "I don't want to sleep with some incestious filth," he ruffled Sam's head- as if he was a dog who had did a trick when his owner told him to- waving off the glare Sam was shooting him. "Sampling, on the other hand, is just fine."

"Fuck you," Sam spat out.

"Gladly," Lucifer replied. Sam gritted his teeth, scowling at his hallucination. 

"Shut up," he hissed. 

"I didn't say anything," Ryan said, noticing how Sam was talking to the empty spot next to him.

"Why are you so offended? You should be happy someone would still want you after you've been tainted by that big brother of yours," Lucifer continued. "You were always the freak. You are a freak. Just be thankful someone other than your whore of a brother wants to take that tight ass of yours."

"I said shut up!" Sam yelled. He knew it wasn't real, that the hallucination was trying to get a reaction from him, but when it came to Dean, the one man who had stayed by Sam even during the worst times, he had a blind spot the size of the Grand Canyon. 

"I didn't say..." Ryan trailed off, finally figuring out what was going on with his captive. He began to laugh as he put the pieces together. "Oh you're insane aren't you? I grabbed a crazy," Ryan said, grinning in a way that reminded Sam too much of Lucifer.

"So all those times I was away you're own mind was torturing itself?" 

Sam looked away from the man, not willing to answer but knew that was enough to confirm Ryan's accusations.

"So not only are you fucking your brother, you're also seeing things that aren't really there. So who-or what- are you seeing? Is it an ex? The Devil?"

Sam had to choke back the laugh threatening to escape. Out of all the things in the world, Ryan managed to choose the right one. Of course, Sam wouldn't tell him that. Sam didn't need the bastard to know exactly what went on in his head.

"I have a little surprise for you."

With the worry about possibly being raped gone, Sam found the situation a bit more bearable. He could handle just about anything Ryan threw at him as long as it didn't involve him being force to have sex with the man who had a major vendetta against his brother. 

He heard the annoying squeal of protesting wheels as Ryan rolled a cart over to the bed his captive was on. Sam couldn't see what was on the cart but he knew it was different from the one he had earlier. Ryan grabbed a small pad from the cart and attached it to Sam's chest. Sam noticed the wires protruding from the surface of the pads. He tried to look up at the cart but the rope held his neck captive, threatening to deprive him of air.

"You probably know what this is by now," he said as he stuck a pad between Sam's breastbone. He grabbed another pad and put it on the wound on his abdomen. He picked up two more pads and stuck them on Sam's temples.

"Yeah Sammy you should remember playing with something similar to this down in my cramped cage," Lucifer said, sitting in a chair beside Sam. Sam pressed his lips in a tight line and looked away, not wanting to give his hallucination the attention he craved. 

By the time Ryan was done, Sam was covered head to toe with the wires. He had the small pads on his torso, legs, arms, and he even had some on the back of his feet. It had dawned on Sam what the machine might be for and he was hoping he was wrong.

"Maybe it's time for me to give a phone call to your lover. Sorry did I say lover? I meant to say brother," Ryan sneered at Sam before pulling a phone out of his pocket. Sam realized it was one of the phones Dean had given Sam before the whole Leviathan mess started. 

"Uh oh brother dearest is going to be pissed that someone messed with you," Lucifer chipped in. "Or maybe he won't care," he leaned forward, his face close to Sam's. Sam swears he can smell ashes and rose petals coming from the Devil’s breath. "Maybe he left when he found out you were gone. After all who would want someone who sees me wherever they look?" 

Sam felt his heart speed up at the mention of his brother. He couldn't let this man-who seems more like a monster than a man- get to Dean. He looked over at Ryan, who was going through the contacts list on Sam's phone. 

"Don't," Sam licked his cracked lips, trying to bring the moisture back to them and instead cringing as he tasted the momentarily forgotten blood," don't do this please," Sam begged the man. He didn't want Dean to come into this mess. 

"Funny, I bet that's what Mandy said before your brother pulled the trigger," Ryan said as he scrolled down the ever shrinking list and found Dean's name. 

******

"It's almost been a day and we're nowhere closer than we were when we started," Dean slammed the cheap table, which creaked under the abuse. The empty styrofoam coffee cups Bobby went out to get just a few hours ago fell off the table and bounced onto the carpet. Ignoring the hunter's sudden outburst Beverly continued to work on the computer, frowning at the monitor. 

"We will find him Dean," Bobby reassured the tense man. He understood that Dean was tired and angry and most of all worried for Sam but Bobby had to keep the younger hunter from snapping and doing something stupid.

"She said she would be done by tonight. For a hacker she sucks at hacking," he spat out as Beverly continued working on her laptop. 

"This is strange," the hacker muttered, ignoring Dean's criticisms. "It's almost like someone put up a whole new firewall along with the first one." 

"What does that mean?"

"That whoever has your brother really doesn't want to be found. They took extra precaution to make sure he was hidden."

Dean sat down on the bed that Sam was supposed to claim for the night and placed his head in his hands. He felt a major headache coming.

"So were basically chasing after a ghost? That's fan-freakin-tastic," Dean muttered, rubbing his temples.

"He barely left anything useful behind for us to use to track him down. I can't access the footage, there are no tire marks in the parking lot, the only eyewitnesses aren't helpful and I... is your phone ringing?"

Dean heard the muffled ring and felt the phone vibrate in his pocket. He fished it out and glanced at his phone. The name that flashed on the caller ID nearly had him in tears.

"What?" Dean looked up from the phone and into the older hunter's eyes.

"It's Sam's phone." 

Bobby abruptly stood up from the chair, almost knocking it over.

“Well then answer it!"

Dean pressed the button on his phone and raised it to his ear. "Sammy?" 

"Hello Dean."

Dean gripped the phone tighter. He didn't recognize the voice, but the voice sounded like it had been through something traumatic. 

"Where the hell is my brother you sick fuck!" Dean spat out. He frowned when he heard the man on the other end laugh.

"Oh you're fuckbuddy is with me," Ryan said as he looked down at Sam. 

"Put him on the phone," Dean snarled. He still was bothered by the fact that some stranger knew the not-so-brotherly relationship between him and Sam, but he knew he could deal with that later. All he wanted to do right now was talk to his baby brother and hear his voice. 

Ryan rested his hand on Sam's chest and began stroking the soft skin. Sam tried to pull away from the touch, but the rope around his neck only severed to make Sam's struggle harder as it tightened.

"Sorry, but Sammy can't come to the phone right now. He's a little tied up right now," he said, ignoring the low growl the man on the other end produced. "Your boy here has a nice body. It's firm and proportionate in all the right places," Ryan reached down and tightly squeezed the hunter's cock, grinning at the pain-filled moan Sam made.

"Keep your fucking hands off of him. Don't touch him," Dean snarled. Bobby’s head shot up when Dean spoke, but Dean ignored the worried look Bobby gave him and instead focused on the person who has his brother.

"Don't worry I'm not going to screw around with him. I'm just sampling," he said to the obviously worried and pissed hunter.

"Put him on the damn phone," Dean demanded, trying not to imagine what the man could do to Sam if he wanted to. "I need proof that he is alive."

"Why should I give you that when I already told you he's with me?" Sam's captor said. 

"I'm going to repeat myself one more time; put him on the damn line or else I'll-"

"You'll what? Kill me? I knew the risks of taking your precious Sammy. I know you will live up to whatever pain you promise. I also know you don't want to risk anything happening to your little cockslut who just so happens to be with me. You don't want anything to happen to Sammy now would you?"

"If you don't put him on the phone I will blow off both your kneecaps before ending your pathetic life," Dean snarled. He looked over at Bobby, who had moved to stand over Beverly and watching whatever the hacker was doing. Dean, wrapped up in his thoughts, almost dropped the phone when he heard the sudden scream produced from the other end. Bobby and Beverly must have heard it too because they stopped whatever it was they were doing and Bobby was beside Dean seconds before Sam’s yells died down.

"You son of a bitch!" Dean roared into the phone. "What the hell did you do?!?"

Ryan turned the machine off and looked down at his prisoner, his body twitching from the electrical shocks. Sam was gasping for air, trying to recollect himself after the shock.

"Electroshock. Never fails." He grinned as he heard the string of curses thrown at him. "I gave you proof of life. You should be thankful."

Dean's grip tightened on the phone, the thought of the man touching his brother, let alone electrocuting him, enough to drive Dean to put the skills he learned from his time as being Hell’s torture to use. However, Dean knew that the man on the other side had the advantage and Dean couldn't do anything that would risk the life of his brother.

"Please just stop hurting him. He doesn't deserve this."

Beverly nervously chewed on her lower lip as she watched Dean plead the man. She heard all about the Winchesters from some of the hunters her stepbrother worked with and they all said the same thing; Dean Winchester is made of stone and ice. He instills terror in both monsters and men. However the only person that could burn through the ice cold heart of his was his brother, although some hunters had suspected they were more than brothers and had told her so.

To see Dean's usually sturdy and aggressive manner be reduce to begging just proved how desperate he was to keep Sam safe.

"Mandy didn't deserve to die but you didn't hesitate to put the damn bullet through her heart," Ryan shot back.

Dean's brow furrowed in confusion. He tried to think of anyone he remembered with that name but nothing came to mind.

"Who's Mandy?"

The voice on the other side had gone quite for a few moments. Dean felt the frustration grow every second the man stayed quiet.

"Who the hell is Mandy?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, Dean heard another bloodcurdling scream tear out of Sam's throat.

"She was someone that was as important to me as the brother you share your sick incestious relationship with. She was the love of my life and you two ripped her away from me! She might have been a witch but that does not give you the right to kill her because you believed she was a monster!”

Throughout the conversation, Dean had been trying to identify the man who abducted his brother and had the fucking nerve to torture Sam while talking to him. The man’s sudden outburst told Dean exactly who he was dealing with.

“Wait, aren’t you the guy from Stratford? The one married to the witch. Your name’s Ryan right?”

Dean would have thought the man hung up if he didn’t hear the faint gasps for air on the other side. Dean knew it belonged to Sam. He knows just about every sound Sam makes and this time he sounded as if he was in pain but he was trying not to show it. The thought of the man hurting his brother made Dean want to spill the man’s blood even more.

“That’s strange. I thought you two forget about the people and things you killed and the lives you destroyed. I guess I was wrong. Anyways, you killed my wife I vowed revenge on you. It took a year but I was able to track you two perves down and well you know what they say; ‘what goes around comes around’. It looks like you're finally getting what you deserve.”

"She was a witch. She killed innocent people!" Dean countered.

"They all deserved to die! They tormented her, cheated on her, humiliated her. They got what they deserved. She only had one more person to get rid of but then you two showed up and shot the plan to hell.”

Another scream rang through the oldest Winchester's ears as Ryan turned the machine on again. 

“Stop hurting him! What the hell do you want with Sam? If you want to hurt someone why not hurt me? I was the one who pulled the damn trigger! He had nothing to do with it!"

"He distracted me while you hunted her down. Besides, I want you to feel the same pain I was in when you killed my wife," Ryan responded. He looked down at the younger hunter sprawled on the bed, head lolling to the side.

"Say hi to you brother Sammy," Ryan said as he held the phone closer to Sam. 

Sam's head was throbbing, his heart racing a mile a second from the shocks administrated to him. The wound on his stomach began to open back up because of the shocks; he could feel blood begin to spill out of it. He wanted nothing more than to drift into sleep, where the pain seemed so far away. He probably would have if it weren't for the promise of hearing his brother's voice again.

"De'n," he managed to say.

"Sammy? Are you okay?" Sam smiled softly, the voice of his older brother soothing to him ever since he was old enough to remember. He nodded, the rope painfully sinking further into his skin, before he remembered that Dean couldn't see him. 

"Yeah," Sam croaked, his dry throat aching but the need to talk to his brother was bigger than the need for his own comfort. "I'm-"

His answer was replaced with a yell as he felt another shock administrated into his body. He heard the string of curses coming from the phone as Ryan pulled the phone away from Sam. 

"You son of a bitch!" Dean shouted at Sam's captor. The need to kill Ryan grew stronger each second he heard the man hurt Sam. ”You obviously haven't heard of my rules so I'll tell you them: taking Sammy, that's just fucking stupid and can end with you in a hospital if your lucky. Hurting Sammy? Torturing him? Now that's a goddamn death wish," Dean said to the man. 

"Well when you don't have anything to lose none of those rules really matter," Ryan said.

“Listen to me you bastard. When I find you, and I will find you, you will wish that I shot you through the heart instead of going through the pain I plan to put you in,” Dean threatened.

Ryan went silent for a few moments. Dean almost allowed himself to believe that the man was reconsidering his actions but the next six words he heard shredded the sliver of hope.

"Say goodbye to your brother Dean." 

Dean felt the way his breathing became fast and shallow. He was going to lose the only form of communication he had with Sam if he didn’t do anything to stop Ryan from hanging up.

“Don’t do this-"

Dean's pleas were cut short when he heard the dial tone. He slammed the phone shut and placed it on the bed before taking a deep breath and turning back to Bobby and Beverly. The clicking sound from the keyboard had stopped sometime during the conversation. Beverly was looking at Dean with what looked suspiciously like pity.

"Dean, are you okay?" Beverly asked. Dean ignored the woman and proceeded to the chair Bobby had occupied not too long ago. He picked it up and slammed it down to the ground, the wood splintering and breaking as it connected with the floor.

"Dean stop!" Bobby yelled. Dean ignored him and slammed a fist through the wall. The cheap plaster broke under the strain of the attack.

Bobby ran over to the younger hunter and wrapped his arms around Dean's chest, pinning Dean's arms to his sides. "Stop! Throwing a temper tantrum isn't going to help us find Sam!"

"That son of a bitch was hurting Sam and all we can do is sit around with no clue how to find him!" Dean said as he pulled away from his surrogate father. "We have no leads, no idea where he could be and each moment we waste Sam is in pain. Unless you have an idea then tell us!”

The trio stayed silent for a few moments, not knowing what to say. Bobby soon broke the silence, an idea forming.

"Well one good thing did come out of this," Bobby said. Dean huffed out a laugh, surprising the older man.

"Something good came out of this? What the hell kind of good can come out of us hearing the bastard torturing Sam?" Dean yelled. Bobby took the phone off of the bed and waved it in Dean's face.

"I'm no good with computers or technology but can't we trace that phone call directly to the source?” Bobby suggested. The two hunters looked over at Beverly. She cracked her knuckles and grabbed the phone out of Bobby's hand.

"Luckily you boys have an IT in the room," Beverly said. "I'll be done in thirty minutes tops," she examined something on the phone before going back to her computer. "This should be easier since that man probably didn't think about blocking the signal," she said before typing away on her laptop.

"Just do it as fast as you can. We can't leave Sammy with that psychopath," Dean said.

"You so owe me for dealing with a psychopath like this," she muttered. "Seriously just get me a box of pizza and I'll be good."

Dean looked over at Bobby. "So, what do we do now?"

"We wait until she finds the coordinates. For now you should rest. You can't rescue Sam if your falling on your face from lack of sleep," Bobby said. He knew Dean would refuse the need for sleep but Bobby also knew that if Dean went out to find the man without sleep then chances of saving Sam would be slim.

Bobby braced himself for the traditional Winchester stubbornness but instead Dean surprised him by sighing in defeat and sitting back down on the bed.

"Yeah I guess you're right," Dean gave in. "I'll lie down, but I won't make any promises about sleeping," he said. Dean walked over to laid down on his stomach on Sam’s bed, eyes wide open. He looked away from the others in the room. He could try to fool Bobby and act as if he was resting, but all Dean could think about was how he was going to make the bastard pay for hurting Sam.

 

******

Ryan stared at the phone for a couple of seconds, the man's warnings protruding his mind. He understood Dean Winchester was a man of his word and as much as he had convinced himself that he would be okay with dying, hearing Dean’s threats sort of scared him. Ryan wouldn’t ever admit that to anyone but he was and he had a right to be. The hunters he had talked to said that those who hurt Sam or fought Dean usually don’t live to tell about it.

Shrugging the nasty thoughts away, he pocketed Sam's phone before turning back to the hunter.

He ripped the pads off of the younger man's chest, noticing how unusually still his captive was. His eyes were closed as well. Ryan placed his hand over Sam's chest, feeling the fast beat underneath his palm.

“Hey," Ryan roughly slapped Sam's cheek until the man's eyes fluttered open. "Stay awake or else I might just have to end you right now."

Sam wanted nothing more than to sleep. His head ached, the blood had dried and crusted over his itchy skin, his body felt like it contained a thousand pissed jellyfish and he wanted nothing more than the promise of a world without pain only sleep could offer. But Sam knew that Dean wouldn't want him to give up. Dean wouldn't want Sam to leave him behind. 

Sam reluctantly opened his eyes, putting as much heat in his glare and directing it at both Ryan and the hallucination standing behind the man.

"See, I can be reasonable. I let you talk to your brother one last time instead of killing you right away."

"Why haven't you done it yet?" Sam asked, cringing from the painful spasms in his chest.

"I think I deserve a little more fun from you," he replied. Ryan began pulling the wires off of Sam’s warm body, not being careful when he ripped the pad off of Sam’s wound. Sam hissed from the pain, teeth clenched together to try and stop any other noise from escaping past his lips. Once Ryan was done taking all the wires off, he pushed the cart away from the bed and turned back to Sam

"I need to attend to a few things. I have some favors I want to cash in," Ryan said. He brushed a hand over Sam's sweaty forehead, pushing the strands of hair stuck to it away. “Your invisible friend can keep you company for an hour or so," he chuckled as Sam glowered at him. 

He leaned over and brushed his lips against Sam's. "If your lucky, your brother can join in on our fun before I kill you," he said before brutally pushing down on Sam’s still bloodied lips. He grinned as the man under him tried to pull away from him. 

Ryan pulled away from Sam and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Faint streaks of blood remained around his mouth. He turned around and walked out of the room, leaving Sam with the man only he could see.  
 “Did you hear that Sammy?” Lucifer said, sounding almost as excited as a kid who got to go to Disney World. “We get some alone time together,” he traced a thumb over Sam’s bloody lip. “Your pal is so nice to us,” his hallucination said.

Sam can’t wait for Dean to find him and kill the son of a bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I got a little out of hand during this chapter and I hope I'm wrong. I don't really know if I like the way I ended this chapter but I guess I thought it would be decent. 
> 
> I'll try to post the next chapter ASAP.
> 
> By the way as of 4/21 I changed the state Ryan was from it was New Jersey but I changed it to Stratford, Iowa.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bobby, Dean, and Beverly finally find out where Sam is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First off thank you everyone for your comments and support. My grandmother is doing fine (she doesn't need a pacemaker so that's a plus). My grandfather, however, is getting worse. I thought he forgot who I was because he was joking with me but I didn't have the heart to tell him to stop. Anyways thanks for the support it was really hard and stressful seeing everyone get stressed over my grandparents.
> 
> This chapter might have some mistakes since it's late and I'm exhausted. I will try to fix them soon.

Almost twenty minutes after the phone call ended, the IT/hacker had a location.

"Ah ha!" she said. Dean stood up from Sam's bed, the sudden cheer from Beverly bringing him out of his plot for Ryan. 

"Where are they?" he asked and ran over to the woman and looked at the computer. 

"It says the signal came from an abandoned warehouse in Stratford. It's only an hour and a half away from here," she said and pointed at the coordinates on the screen. 

"An abandoned warehouse? Wow how much more cliché can this get?" Dean muttered, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. Bobby knew Dean was barely holding it together. His sarcasm was a defense mechanism; he would use it when he didn't want anyone to see how someone hurting Sam had created large cracks in his armor. Dean knew he had to be the strong one but since the boy inherited his stubbornness from John Dean refused to let anyone help him carry the weight this situation had put on him emotionally. Bobby, focused on the way Dean’s jaw clenched when he studied the screen, almost missed the location the hacker had given them.

“Wait, Dean isn’t Stratford the place where that maniac is from?" Bobby asked. 

"Yep," Dean replied, taking a sip of the beer he had opened hours before talking to the soon-to-be walking dead man. He didn't care about how warm it was after staying out for a while. All he cared about was the coordinates on the screen. "It's also the place where he will die." He placed his beer down and walked over to the duffle bags in the corner of the room. 

"Thanks for everything Beverly," Dean said as he grabbed his and Sam's duffle bags, which had stayed by the door, unpacked, even before Sam was abducted. "We really appreciate what you've done. Bobby and I are going to get him and you can go back to doing whatever the hell you like to do in motels alone."

"I'm going with you," Beverly said immediately as she rose up from the chair.

"Like hell you are," Dean said. "This man is insane and I rather not let you witness what I plan to do with him."

"I'm willing to miss the Star Wars marathon just to help you. Let me help you find him and then I'll leave you alone." 

"Why are you even here?" Dean suddenly asked. 

"To help you out dumbass," Beverly said. 

"I mean why are you here? Why are you staying at a motel that is nowhere near any attractions or nice places?" 

Beverly looked over at the broken table, a stern expression on her face. “I need to explain myself to you?” Beverly snapped at Dean.

Dean held up his hands, surprised by the sudden outburst. “Woah no need to snap,” he said. “I just wanted to know why you’re here.”

Beverly’s glare softened a bit. “Sorry I tend to get little defensive sometimes,” she said. "Truth is, I was on a road trip with my boyfriend, the one good with cars and shit like that. He told me he wanted to ‘see other people’ and dumped me in the motel we were staying in before taking off with the damn car. That was three days ago. I have to stay here until Henry can come pick me up. Good for nothing asshat. He couldn't even dropped me off at a damn bus stop," Beverly muttered. 

“So your boyfriend dumped you and took off?” Dean scowled at the woman’s nod. “What a dick.”

“Yeah now that I think about it, I don’t know what I really saw in him. He always checked out other women and he wasn’t the nicest person I’ve ever known. I wish I saw what he really was and broke up with him before he ditched me," she rambled. 

"Not to cut in on sharing time but we should focus on finding Sam," Bobby interrupted. 

"Agreed," Beverly replied. She grabbed her laptop and stuffed it in her bag before tossing it over her shoulder. "And I'm going to help you with that."

"Listen this person is insane and you really don't want to see what I will do to him for messing with my brother," Dean said. 

"I can just wait in the car.”

Dean looked over at Bobby, hoping the older hunter would agree with him. Instead Bobby sighed and glanced over at the woman before looking back at Dean.

"Dean just let the girl come. We don't have a lot of time to waste arguing," Bobby said as he headed towards the door. Dean groaned and stared at the woman. 

"Fine but you're sitting in the back," Dean scowled and muttered something about "stubborn ass people” as he walked out of the motel room. 

******

He knew it was stupid, but Sam couldn't stop thinking about how bored he was. There was nothing to do other than criticize the walls paint job-or lack of- and count how many times he heard mice scurrying across the floorboards. He told himself it was mice because although he wasn't a squeamish person-the hunting life doesn't allow that-he'd take mice over rats anytime. 

His hallucinations have been rather quiet. Sam had expected Lucifer’s taunting or off key singing but so far he hadn’t bothered Sam since Ryan disappeared. He probably got bored of Sam ignoring him and decided to bug someone else for a change. Sam gave a low chuckle at the thought. He would never be granted something as simple as peace from his own mind. It was a bit pathetic that Sam couldn’t even indulge in the rare moment where he was free from his mind without worrying about what Lucifer had planned for him.

The quiet was really getting to him. Even the soft pattering of the rodents eventually stopped. Sam sighed and began clicking his tongue on the roof of his mouth, a habit he had inherited before he was a teen when he was in the Impala with dad and Dean and the occasional moments where he had nothing better to do than click his tongue and watch the trees and run-down buildings pass by them.

The clicking couldn't contain his boredom forever and soon he found that it couldn't entertain him anymore.

Sam almost laughed at himself. Here he was getting a break from both his tormentors and he couldn’t stop thinking about how bored he was. 

He really was fucked up and pathetic. 

Growing up as a hunter, he almost always had a way to pass the time. Siting in long car rides with his dad and Dean he would read a book he stole from the last town's public library or read what license plates are from. 

He hated being abducted for obvious reasons- torture, Dean worrying, the possibility of dying (again). He also hated it because other than coming up with a plan to escape (which he had none) there was nothing to do.

The faint sound of footsteps behind the door brought Sam out of his thoughts. He had to strain to hear the soft thud, but Sam knew someone was out there. He braced himself, not wanting to deal with whatever the psychopath had prepared for him now.  When the door opened, Sam couldn't help but look away from the figure in the doorframe. He wasn't really in the mood to see the smug look on the psychopath's face. He wished he could rip it off of his tormentor.  

"Sammy?"

Sam glanced over at the voice, his breath caught in his throat at the sight. His injuries and headache were temporally forgotten when his eyes landed on the man in the doorway. 

"Dean?" he called out, wincing at the way his voice cracked. His older brother stood at the door and gave him a wide, bright smile.

"Glad to see you're safe little brother," Dean said as he pocketed his gun. He walked over to Sam and knelt by the bed. He cupped Sam’s face in his hands, smiling as Sam leaned into the touch. "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah I'm fine. A little bruised but I'm good," Sam replied. He knew it was probably worse than he thought but the only thing he could focus on was the fact that his brother was here ready to help him escape. Sam lightly pulled on his good arm, the handcuffs rattling against the metal bed frame. "Do you mind helping me out of this?"

Dean rose a hand to Sam's hair and ran his fingers through the long silky hair. Sam frowned. Something was off.

"Dean-"

Dean suddenly clamped his hand down on Sam's mouth. Sam began to twist in his bonds, fear rising in his chest.

_This isn't Dean..._

"Sammy what's wrong? Aren't you happy to see your big brother?" Not-Dean asked. 

He lifted his hand off of Sam's mouth. Before the youngest Winchester could speak Not-Dean leaned down and wrapped a hand around Sam's chin before he crushed his lips against Sam's. They felt like Dean’s, they even had the faint taste of burgers and booze, but Sam knew it wasn't Dean. He pulled at his restraints harder, wanting to get away from him. He felt the rope around his ankles dig deep in to his abused skin. He tried to bite back the moan threatening to leave him but a pull on his temporally forgotten broken wrist tore the moan out of his mouth. Not-Dean took advantage of the hunter's pain and stuck his tongue into the man's mouth, grinning at the surprised sound Sam made. Sam bit down on Not-Dean's tongue but he (it?) didn't seem to notice. 

After a few more seconds (which felt like hours to Sam) Not-Dean pulled away from Sam, still holding Sam's face in his big hand. 

"What's wrong baby boy?" Not-Dean pouted. "Aren't you happy to see big brother?"

"Don't fucking call me that," Sam hissed, clenching his fists. He pulled away from the hand, nearly chocking himself from the makeshift noose around him. “You’re not Dean!” he shouted and began to cough.

Dean sighed as Sam coughed due to the strain on his throat. His features began to warp until it revealed Lucifer, still grinning at the man on the bed. 

"You got me," Lucifer grinned at the man's watery glare, his vision blurred with tears from the burn on his neck. Lucifer sat down on the stained mattress, next to Sam’s bare leg. He paid no attention to the watery glare Sam shot him. 

"I can't even get attention from you unless I pretend to be your brother. It's sad really," the Devil pouted. Sam looked away from him, refusing to give him any kind of acknowledgement.

"Come on Sammy, how can a little pain and humiliation even compare to a hundred and eighty years in Hell with me?" Lucifer's playful smile warped into a snakelike feature. "Adam is still there and he's still holding out. Seriously, he's pissed you two aren't even trying to help him but at least Michael favors him."

"Shut up," Sam said through gritted teeth, still not looking at the hallucination. Sam couldn’t remember if Adam was in Hell with him or if he was in Heaven but using his and Dean’s half-brother still stung the hunter, reminding him how he had failed another person.

Lucifer ignored his previous comment and reached for Sam's groin. Sam tensed as the hands ghosted over his cock.

"Such a shame your friend there doesn't want this body. You were a really good fucktoy," Lucifer began stroking Sam's length.

"I said shut up!" Sam yelled. Lucifer grinned as he watched Sam's face turn bright red.

“Come on Sammy just have a little fun. It’s not like Dean’s gonna know about this,” he said. Sam looked away from the Devil, refusing to acknowledge him.

“Oh now here comes the silent treatment. Do you really think silence will get you anywhere? It didn’t with Dean or your daddy so why would it work on me?”

Sam cursed himself for hating the earlier silence he now craved to have. 

“Sam you probably already know where you are," the hallucination suddenly said. Sam looked over at him, confused.

"What do you mean?"

Lucifer lowered his arm until he was lightly rubbing Sam's leg. Sam let out a sigh in relief. He never liked it when anyone other than Dean touched him, especially the one place only meant for his brother. 

"Are you telling me that the big brain inside your fucked up head doesn't know where you are? I'll give you a hint: it's where this mess started." 

Sam wrinkled his brow in confusion. "What mess exactly?" There was too many for Sam to count; the Leviathan mess, losing his soul, accidentally killing Lilith and starting the apocalypse, trusting a demon instead his own brother, Dean selling his soul-

"The one that resulted with you ending up in the hands of that kinky man and talking to me just to keep your mind off of the pain you must be in," his hallucination said, interrupting Sam's train of thought. 

It didn't take Sam long to figure out what he meant. 

"Stratford. We're in Stratford," Sam said out loud. Lucifer grinned and clapped his hands together in mock excitement. 

"See this is why I'm glad you were my vessel. You're a smart man Sammy," he replied. 

"Don't call me that," Sam hissed at Lucifer before continuing, "Stratford's where the witch lived. It's were this bastard's from."

Sam groaned, the small throb of pain before suddenly intensifying. His temporally forgotten wounds seemed to want attention. His head throbbed painfully as well. 

"You're not looking so hot Sammy. Maybe your poor wittle injuries will kill you before he does," Lucifer teased. 

Sam would have brushed off the comment but he knew the Devil had a point. Most of the cuts didn't hurt out too much, just irritated the crap out of him, but some of the deeper ones stung, especially the one on his chest. He was right; Sam was not doing to well.  

"Of course I'm right," Lucifer said as if he could read Sam’s mind. He probably could: after all he was a hallucination conjured in Sam’s damaged head. "I'm right about a lot of things. I have to admit I'm a little ticked someone else is having fun with my bunk buddy but at least we can spend time together without that pain in the ass brother of yours."

Sam felt a shiver run through his body. He was naked and the warehouse was a bit cold but Sam knew the blood loss was finally starting to take its toll.  

"Still losing blood? That's funny how you humans need blood to survive. It's usually depicted as death or violence but in reality it's what you need to survive. Without it you're a goner. It is about death but it's also the essence of life."

Sam had been stabbed, shot, struck down by lightning, had the wall in his head broken down and is slowly going insane and sacrificed his life just to save the world. 

He was _not_ going to die from something as stupid as blood loss. 

"Maybe once you're gone he'll go after Dean."

Sam gritted his teeth together. He knew Lucifer was trying to get a reaction out of him and he would not give him the satisfaction of giving in to the Devil's jabs. 

"Who knows, maybe he likes to save the best for last. You probably weren't good enough for him and he decided to take big brother out for a test drive. I know I would if I could.”

Sam almost shouted at the figment of his screwed up mind to shut the hell up, but knowing how that would only make it worse he decided to keep his mouth shut. 

"I wonder what he has planned for you next," he chipped in. "Maybe more physical torture? Some emotional? "

He bit back the moan of pain from the ache in his stretched muscles and the gashes decorating his body. The deep ones stung and Sam had a feeling that at least two or three of them were becoming infected. Lucifer continued blabbering but Sam paid no attention to him. All he was focused on was the way his wounds seemed to suddenly amplify.

He hated to admit it but for the first time since he was taken he was beginning to doubt whether or not Dean would find him before the psychopath or his wounds killed him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how many chapters are left but I think we're getting close to the end (probably 3 or 4 more chapters). This is the most time I've put into a fanfic and I want to thank everyone for reading this. I wrote out the next chapter but it still needs some work. I will probably post it by next week.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is close to finding his brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you guys thought I had given up on this or forgotten about this crazy story but I've been working on this chapter for a while and I wanted to make sure it was the best I could do despite my circumstances. I would have put this up earlier but I got a nice concussion last month and I'm still not completely over it but I tried working on this whenever I could. My head still hurts badly so it might take a while before I post the next chapter (which I am close to finishing). Please tell me if I misspelled anything or stopped mid-sentance. My ADHD is really bad since I got my concussion and I could barely check to make sure it was good enough to post.

The ride to the warehouse was silent. No one dared to say a word as Dean drove fast enough to break the speed limit by twenty. The sounds of Motörhead and Led Zeppelin that usually accompanied the oldest Winchester were absent on the untouched radio. Beverly, who was occupying the backseat of the old car, watched how Dean's grip tightened on the wheel as the car ate up miles. When they passed under a light, she could see how his jaw was painfully clenched together.

Twenty miles away from their destination and Beverly decided that the silent, awkward ride needed to come to an end. She cleared her throat before speaking.

"So, what's the plan?" she met Dean's green tired eyes in the rearview mirror for a few seconds- _how does he not crash?_ -before he pulled away.  
"Find Sam and maybe show the son of a bitch what the inside of him looks like."

Beverly grimaced at the thought of someone seeing their own internal organs. She wasn't easily squeamish; Beverly was used to the gruesome recaps about her step-brother's latest hunts and she may watch a little too much Grey's Anatomy and ER, but hearing about it and seeing it on TV were different from witnessing it in person.

"Okay..." she trailed off, the gross thought invading her mind.

"Why is he so fixated on hurting you boys anyway? What did you do to him?" Bobby asked. He knew the Winchesters had a long history filled with people that wanted them dead but neither brother told him much about the one case last year that led this psychopath to them.

Dean sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Last year a witch was terrorizing and murdering people in Stratford-"

"I know that ya idget. Just tell me what you two did to piss him off."

Dean sent Bobby a quick glare before continuing.

"The witch, Mandy, was his wife." Dean said. "I pulled the trigger and shot the bitch while Sam kept Ryan away from her. He distracted him for a while somehow, probably used those damn eyes, but we had to tell him about it eventually. When we told him, he seemed really okay with the fact we just killed his wife. Hell he even thanked us for preventing anything else happening."

"He must have been a professional con-man if he could trick you two into believing he was okay with that," Bobby said.

"Honestly I didn't care if he was lying or not. It was one of the first cases we went on since Sam got his soul back and I was worried the entire time if he would break down and remember everything that happened to him."

"Your brother lost his soul?" Beverly asked in awe. "Henry told me about people selling their souls but losing it? How is that even possible?"  
She stopped asking questions when she saw the heated look in the mirror Dean was shooting her.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly.

"Now we have a psychopath who has probably been planning this for a year taking it out on Sam. And he knew about us Bobby." Dean took his eyes off the road to look at his surrogate father. Bobby pretended not to notice the undead tears in Dean's eyes. "He somehow knew about Sam and I and now he's going to take away Sam, just like I took his wife away."

 _"Well you two are sort of obvious"_ was what Beverly wanted to say. She didn't say it out loud however, for she knew she had no say in their illegal relationship nor would she make it out of the Impala in one piece if Dean heard her say that.

Instead she looked down at her phone and gave Dean the directions when he asked for it.

She sort of regretted breaking the silence earlier and replacing it with an even more awkward silence.

******

"Having fun?"

"Fuck off," Sam hissed. He was annoyed with the cheery vibe that bounced off the man.

"That wasn't really nice Sammy," Ryan said as he approached the bed. Sam looked at the man, throwing him one of his infamous bitch-faces as he spoke.

"Oh I'm sorry I didn't know I forgot it's inconsiderate to be rude to some asshole who enjoys abducting and torturing people. Condolences," Sam shot back, secretly pleased with the venomous tone he had used with Ryan. He was done with the man, done with the hallucination who had nothing better to do than sing off-key to the same song fifty-six times in a row, done with this entire mess.

He just wanted his brother.

"There's the infamous Winchester sass," the man said. "You know, you really should learn some manners Sammy."  
"It's Sam," he spat out.

Ryan chuckled and turned around to the cart Sam grew to loath almost as much as the man himself. He picked up the bloodstained blade he had used on Sam earlier and studied it before turning his attention back to the bound figure.

"Really? More cutting?" his hallucination, who had been standing silently on the edge of Sam's bed piped up. "I thought he'd have something better in store for you," he sighed and plopped down on the bed next to Sam's bound leg. "He could break your other wrist or rip off your fingernails and toenails one by one but instead he goes for the knife again. See if you were with me Sammy I would come up with a lot of things to keep you on your toes.”

Ryan studied Sam for a couple of seconds before putting the knife back down. He grabbed a chair that was in the middle of the room-Sam believes it's the chair Ryan tied him down to when he first woke up to this hellish nightmare-and dragged it over to Sam.

"Maybe we should give that lovely body of yours a break from the pain," he said as he sat down in the chair. "Let's talk."

Sam stared at the man, dumbfounded. The man who abducted him and tortured him wanted to talk?

"So what now you want to talk about your feelings?"

Ryan smirked when he heard the confusion in his captive's voice. "No I want to talk about something else. Let's talk about Dean. Tell me Sammy, is he worth it?”

“What?”

“Is Dean worth this illegal and disgusting relationship you two have?”

Sam knew the answer to that immediately but he refused to answer the psychopath sitting in front of him. Sam turned his head away from the man, which was hard to do when he was being constantly chocked by the makeshift noose.

"Come on Sammy just answer the nice man's question," Lucifer said.

Sam gave the devil a murderous look.

"Answer my question slut," Ryan said, unfazed by the look Sam shot at him, the same one he gave Lucifer two seconds earlier. "Is that whore of a brother worth it?"

"Yes," Sam replied. He could take the taunts and the name calling and the torture but he wouldn't stay silent while the maniac was talking about his brother as if he was lower than trash. "Yes he is worth it. Dean is the most important person to me. He takes care of me, always has been since I was a baby. He puts everyone's needs before himself. He's a selfless, stubborn bastard who do deserves more than he believes he does." Sam could see the hate growing in Ryan's eyes as he talked about his brother. "He's smart, beautiful, can easily kick ass and is great in bed too."

The sudden punch to his eye had left Sam unprepared for the attack. Sam's head shot back, the force of the punch harder than he had thought it would be. He could already feel his eye swelling up.

"You sick fuck!" Ryan yelled. "He's your damn brother! You shouldn't have those kind of feelings for him you bastard!"

He stepped over the chair that had fallen to the ground when he stood up and pulled the bloodstained knife off the cart. Sam fought the urge to groan. The routine cutting was annoying but nothing he hadn't experienced before.

Sam winced a bit when he felt the blade cut another shallow gash into his chest, close to the other cuts, before moving down to his lower body. Ryan sliced a path down his thigh and ended just below his calf.

"What are you some kind of vampire or do you just have a sick fetish for blood?" Sam asked sarcastically, his teeth clenched together in mild pain. It hurt more than he expected. Huh. The blood loss was probably starting to get to him. He thought it would take a bit longer until he started to feel the effects kick in.

"There's just something about watching the way your blood leaves you body that soothes me," Ryan said, his calm tone a sharp contrast to the one he had used earlier. "Watching something that's contaminated with something filthy, something unclean, slowly bleed out is satisfying."

 _"He has no idea,"_ Sam thought. At least the man doesn't know about the demon blood; it would be one more thing the man could use to taunt him.  
Ryan gripped Sam's face in his hand and brought the knife closer to the younger man's face. He ran the flat side of the bloodied blade down Sam's cheek, leaving a trail of blood on Sam's face.

"You know, Dean probably doesn't care about you," he said, still stroking the blade around Sam's face. "He's probably glad you're gone. He won't have to deal with those issues up in your head anymore," he said as he lightly tapped the flat of the blade against Sam's temple before bringing it back down to his face.

"That's what I've been saying!" Lucifer clapped his hands together as he stood up from the chair. "I really like this guy Sammy. You and Dean sure know how to pick your enemies," Lucifer said.

Sam rolled his eyes. He knew that the man and the hallucination were just trying to rile him up. Even after all the times they had fought or tried to go their separate ways, they had always somehow came back to each other. It was like some unknown force didn't want them to stay apart. Even if the universe tried to keep them apart, it would never succeed. They would both find a way to get back to each other. They always did.

"Is that all you got? A flimsy knife, some crappy jokes, and a shock machine?" Sam stared down his tormentor. He had been through worse-time in the cage can raise one's pain tolerance-and unlike in the cage, Sam could allow himself to hope that he could somehow escape it that Dean would somehow find him and put an end to this nightmare.

"Well that shock machine sure did a number to you kid," Ryan said. He placed a hand on Sam's upper chest and Sam gritted his teeth in attempt to hold back the moan. He didn't realize that his body had an array of dark purplish bruises until Ryan had touched the one on his chest.

"These are some pretty nasty bruises I left you," Ryan said. He placed a hand over Sam's chest, right where his heart was. He was silent for a few beats before breaking it with a chuckle. "Surprised your heart is still strong after all of this."

"I've survived worse," Sam replied truthfully. He survived through a lot of physical and mental torture from the supernatural they hunted. He could handle one stupid human with a knife.

"He's your hero isn't he?" Ryan said, suddenly changing the focus from Sam's wounds to his brother. "You're the poor damsel in distress, waiting for your hero to come and save you."

Ryan, still holding the blade close to the younger man's face, raised his other hand and squeezed Sam's broken wrist, grinning as Sam attempted to suppress the pained sound that slipped out of his mouth.

"Your hero is late," he said and grabbed Sam's face again. Sam tried to pull away from the hand-it was really starting to annoy the hell out of him how much this man liked to touch him-but Ryan's grip was tight. He dug his fingernails into Sam's jaw, leaving small red crescent shaped marks on Sam's jaw. Sam felt his throat constricting as he tried to pull away from the man. He had forgotten about the damn noose.

"Easy kid. Don't go chocking yourself to death I'm not done with you yet."

Sam could have laughed at the man. He was the one who wanted the "extra insurance" that was currently suffocating him.

"You would be a nice fuck I bet," he said silently as he studied the man laid out on the filthy mattress.

"And you'd be a nice kill," Sam retorted.

"All talk," his tormentor replied. The blade trailed up until it had reached Sam's good eye. Sam unintentionally began squirming in his restraints when the tip neared his eye.

"Now we're taking," Lucifer said and moved closer to the man holding the knife.

"This might hurt a bit," Ryan said. "Actually it will hurt a lot but I'm sure you can handle it."

"Please I've already done that," Lucifer said to the man, but Sam knew the words were aimed at him. "Besides what's so bad about losing an eye or two other than being in permanent darkness? You should know Sammy what with all the fun times we had in the cage together."

Sam clamped his eyes shut, ready to resist the man more even if all he got out of it was annoying his tormentor when suddenly Ryan pulled the blade away. Sam let out a small breath of relief when the looming blade was out of his sight.

Before Sam could comment or make a snarky remark just to annoy Ryan, he clamped a callous hand over Sam's mouth, disregarding the muffled grunts that came from the hunter on the filthy bed. He stayed quiet for a moment, head craned as he listened for something Sam couldn't hear.  
With no explanation, he removed his hand from Sam's mouth and quickly walked out of the room, leaving both Sam and his hallucination behind, confused by his captor's sudden change in behavior.

"Huh, wonder what that's all about," Lucifer said. For the first time since seeing the damn hallucination, Sam had to agree with it.

_What the hell is going on?_

******

Dean pulled up to the deserted lot and parked the Impala right in front of the warehouse. As soon as the car came to a stop he quickly hopped out of the it. He ran to the back and unlocked the trunk and took off the fake flooring, revealing the weapons, protection, and other necessary hunting equipment. While Dean reached for his .45 and replaced the rock salt with bullets, Bobby walked over to the trunk and reached for his shotgun while he spoke.

"Dean, don't go crazy with killing the man. We're here to get Sam and maybe kill the bastard but-"

"Maybe? Bobby I'm ganking the fucker's ass as soon as I see him," Dean replied. He made sure his gun was loaded and cocked it before turning to the older man.

"No one touches Sam, let alone abducts him and tortures him, and gets away with it," he said before pulling a knife out of the trunk and stuffing it in his back pocket.

Bobby sighed and took his worn baseball cap off, rubbing the bald spot on his head. "You two have the most codependent relationship I've ever seen."

Dean spared Bobby a small grin. "You should have know that by know Bobby." Dean said. He grabbed another gun from the trunk before walking back to Beverly, who was still in the back of the Impala. He held out the Beretta M9 he had in his hand to her.

"Stay out here but if anything comes shoot first and ask questions later. Understand?"

She examined the gun in Dean's hand before glancing back up at the hunter confused.  
"Why can't I come with you? You two are gonna need all the help you can get."

"Listen I let you come along for the ride but you aren't coming with us. It's too dangerous." Dean held the gun out to her, staring her in the eyes as he spoke. "Do you know how to use this?"

"I-I had some target practice with Henry but I suck at aiming."

"That's good enough," he said, smiling as Beverly rolled her eyes and took the gun out of Dean's hand. She took the safety off and looked up at Dean.

"So you don't want me to come with you but you're perfectly fine with handing me a gun?"

"If you don't want it I can take it back-"

"No I'd be more comfortable if I have something with me just in case," she said. She'd rather stay outside in the Impala alone with a weapon just in case rather than outside in the Impala alone with nothing on her.

"Alright. We'll be back," Dean said. He turned to Bobby, who had just finished loading his shotgun. "Time to get Sammy back."

Dean, too wrapped up planning his brother's captor's death, failed to notice the silhouette of a person looking out one of the windows in the warehouse.

******

 

Sam didn't bother to look up when the door slammed open. He already knew Ryan was back from whatever he ran off to. Sam was getting tired of seeing his two tormentors over and over again. His head rolled to the side of the uncomfortable mattress, his injuries and concussion and the lack of sleep and water making him feel weary and a bit nauseous.

Sam however did look up when he heard the familiar click of a safety being taken off. It came from the revolver Ryan was holding in his left hand.  
"I'm sorry but I have to cut our playtime short," Ryan said as he put the revolver down on the cart and reached for the roll of tape.

The meager continents in Sam's stomach began to roll when he heard his captor talk. He didn't like where this was going. "Listen, you don't have to do this," Sam urged, struggling against his restraints as Ryan approached him. "You're not a murder."

"My wife easily killed all those bastards with a simple hex-bag before you two came and killed her. I'm capable of killing some helpless sick fuck with a bullet."

Ryan ripped off a piece of tape with his teeth and slammed it down on the struggling man's mouth. "I can't have you screaming for help when I kill you," he explained.

Sam, speech hindered, gave Ryan a confused look. Ryan leaned over the bed and softly spoke in Sam's ear.

"Big brother's here. I can't have you calling out to him before I kill you. That would ruin the surprise I have planned for him."

Sam felt his heart speed up as Ryan spoke. _Dean? He's here?_

Sam, speech hindered, decided to pull out the puppy dog eyes (as Dean liked to call it) and pleaded with his eyes for Ryan to stop. Ryan just laughed at his captive's merger attempts to reason with him.

"Puppy dog eyes aren't going to work on me boy-o," Ryan put the tape down and reached for the gun. He climbed on the bed and straddled the man struggling in his bonds. He pulled out a single bullet from his pocket and placed inside the chamber of the gun and spun it before closing it.

"It's my version of Russian Roulette," Ryan explained, holding the revolver up to the dim light and examining it, but Sam knew he was just trying to scare him. "The way to play is there is one bullet in the chamber. I get to choose five parts of your body that I would like to shoot. I keep choosing until the bullet leaves the chamber. Since I'm the one controlling the gun, we all know who's going to bite the dust."

"Don't worry," he continued, "the doors and windows are locked and sturdy. Dean won't be able to interrupt our fun until it's over."

He moved down until he was sitting below Sam's knees and placed the pistol over Sam's cock. "Maybe right here would be good. Dean would be devastated to see his little cockslut shot in his precious package," he smirked as he watched the younger man squirm in the handcuffs as he placed the barrel of the gun at the head of Sam's cock. "That wouldn't kill you unless I shoot it in a certain place, but it will hurt like the bitch you are."  
He pulled the trigger, sighing when nothing came out.

"That's a shame. Dean would've really been devastate by that," he said.

He climbed back up to rest on Sam's torso and aimed the gun at Sam's head.

"Or maybe your brain will be a better choice. After all, you are pretty smart and it would kill Dean if he saw that bullet through that pretty little head of yours."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, wishing Ryan would just shut the hell up and that Dean would hurry.

He pulled the trigger, chuckling as Sam twitched at the blanks.

"Looks like your grapefruit is safe."

"No Ryan it isn't safe," Lucifer said as he walked next to Ryan and stared down at Sam, "I'm still in it so he's not safe from his bunk-buddy."  
Sam glared at the fallen angel. There's a reason no one in Heaven tolerated you.

Ryan went on for another two rounds, aiming at both Sam's abdomen and throat. Both times he made crude comments about Sam's body and Dean being his lover. Those remarks alone were enough to made Sam want to throttle the bastard.

The gun didn't go off either time, and Sam knew the type of revolver he had only had a chamber for five bullets which meant that it would go off the next time he pulled the trigger.

"And we're on our last round. Looks like the heart wins," Ryan announced. He placed the barrel of the gun on Sam's chest, directly where his heart laid. "The heart is the perfect place," he said. "Dean probably loves how big that heart of yours is. Imagine his reaction when he finds it shattered. Bonus it's the same place where he shot Mandy."

"Besides, you get to feel the same way I do; empty inside, and literally heartbroken," he snickered at his own joke, shoving the gun harder. Sam let out a soft groan, his already bruised chest aching.

"Don't worry boy you'll see that sick brother of yours when he finally lands in Hell with you," he teased as he cocked the revolver.

Sam closed his eyes and made a silent apology to Dean.

_I'm sorry De-_

The sound of wood splintering had both men looking over at the fallen door. Dean Winchester stood in the doorway, the gun in his hand pointed at the man on top of Sam. If looks could kill, Ryan would be dead as soon as Dean laid eyes on him. Fury coated his tone when he yelled at the man.

"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you guys really think I wouldn't add a cliffhanger at a moment like this?
> 
> Crazy things happened in this chapter. Don't even know how I thought of the last part but for some reason it was one of the first things I wrote for this story. Hope it didn't seem to crazy. I beginning to think that I'm secretly some kind of psychopath or maybe I just have a very interesting mind. I hope it's the second one. 
> 
> So Dean finally found Sam and the bastard (yay) but what will happen next? Only I truly know and soon you guys will too.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finally found Sam, but will happen next?

"GET THE HELL AWAY FROM HIM!"

Dean felt his heart nearly give out when he saw the way the man-Ryan he presumed-was straddling Sam's waist, revolver aimed at Sam's chest. He felt the rage rise when he saw the small incisions that marred Sam's face, the noticeable abrasions underneath the rope and handcuffs wrapped tightly around his wrists and ankles, the black eye, and other things Sam should not have on him. More specifically the man on top of him.

Dean caught Sam's gaze, giving him a look that spoke volumes.

_Are you okay Sammy?_

Sam's weary eyes-mainly the one that wasn't swollen-searched Dean, and Dean couldn't help but smile a bit when he deduced that Sam was more worried about how Dean's welfare was rather than his own, even though Sam was the one in trouble. He also caught a glimpse of something else in his brother's gaze.

Hope.

"Looks like your brother decided to join in the fun," Ryan said to the man underneath him. Sam, more than relived to see his brother safe and unharmed unlike him, suddenly felt his injuries catch up to him. His head rolled away from Dean, eyes fluttering shut.

Dean unaware of his actions, moved his aim until it lined up where the man's leg was, his stance unwavering as he spoke.

"Get off of my brother or your legs go first."

Ryan flashed a grin at Sam, seeing how the young man's injuries were finally making themselves noticed, before climbing off of the youngest Winchester and moved away from the bed. He held his hands up, a shit-eating grin on his face as he studied Dean Winchester.  
Dean looked over at his brother and felt his own heart break when he saw some of the bruises and cuts littering his brother's body that had been hidden when the man was on top of him. He then looked over at Bobby, who's gun was targeting the man as well.

"Bobby, get Sam out of here. I need to give someone a lesson as to why Samnapping is the biggest mistake they can make in their miserable life."

Bobby nodded and ran over to the bed Sam was on. He put his gun in his pocket and started working on freeing Sam.

"Hey Sam it's just me it's okay your gonna be okay boy," Bobby reassured when Sam let out a muffled whimper, eyes scrunched shut in what Bobby believed to be in pain. He saw Sam's chest rise and fall quickly, too quick for him to take proper breaths. Bobby grabbed the edge of the tape, sympathy coating his eyes and tone when he spoke to the man. "I'm sorry Sam but this will hurt for a second."

Bobby quickly ripped the tape off, wincing when he saw Sam's torn and bruised lips. Knowing that he had to get Sam out before he could witness what his brother had in store for the man, Bobby began picking the the handcuffs. He cringed in sympathy when he noticed the way Sam's wrist was unnaturally twisted.

"Balls," Bobby muttered when he came to the conclusion that Sam's wrist was broken. He looked at Sam, whose eyes were still scrunched shut. He was twisting in his bonds, as if he was trying to get away from the nightmare he had been in for too long.

"So, Dean Winchester, the man of legend himself," Ryan said, staring down the man as if Dean didn't have a gun pointing right at him or, worse, a hurt little brother. "Does anyone else know about how you fuck your own flesh and blood? How you enjoy whoring around with the man you're practically a father to? It sickens me."

Dean didn't respond to the man's words. Instead, he tilted his gun down and pulled the trigger. The man fell to the floor with a howl, holding the leg that had a bullet painfully lodged in his knee.

Bobby glanced over at the man on the floor before attending to Sam again. He carefully cut the rope wrapped around Sam's neck, cursing the man who did this when he saw the deep welts and bruises around his neck. Bobby realized Sam had to have struggled hard for the rope to chafe his neck as badly as it was. He was surprised Sam was still breathing. The scattered cuts on his body weren't any better. Although some were just scratches or small incisions, others looked deeper, blood dried up around it. At least three of them looked infected as well. He couldn't help but grimace when he saw small, circular burn marks covering his chest and legs.

"Damn," he swore and started cutting the rope off Sam's ankles.

When Bobby finally cut the last piece of rope off Sam's ankles, freeing him, he was surprised by the sudden kick to his chest that nearly knocked the older man over.

"NO!" Sam yelled. Bobby quickly recovered from the sudden attack in time to avoid Sam's long legs from hitting him again. Bobby noticed how Sam's eyes were still scrunched shut as he blindly kicked his legs out, trying to hit who Bobby believed was Ryan.

"Sam it's me, Bobby." He ducked, missing Sam's attempt to kick his face. Bobby gently but firmly grabbed Sam by the ankles, preventing the man from trying to kick him. "Stop you're gonna hurt yourself!"

Sam's mind was a whirlwind. He knew he had been taken and that Dean was there with him and his captor but he didn't know why he had brought another hunter to help him. The voice sounded familiar but his mind couldn't place a name or face to it.

"Sam please listen to me; Dean and I are here to rescue you. You're safe now. We won't let him hurt you again."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Sam stopped struggling and opened his eye. A cloudy hazel eye searched the older hunter for threats but soon realized it was the man who had came to be their surrogate father.

"B...Bobby?" Sam said, letting out a shaky breath.

"Yeah it's me boy. Dean and I are here to get you out and away from this scum."

Bobby carefully helped the man sit up on the bed, thankful that the bastard at least left Sam's back untouched. He held on to Sam's shoulders when the younger man nearly fell back into the mattress.

"Do you think you can stand up?" he asked. Sam looked up at Bobby and gave Bobby a small nod. With Bobby's help, he managed to pushed off the bed. A wave of vertigo hit the young man and he would have fallen to the floor if Bobby hadn't held onto him.  
"I told you your legs were going to go first," Dean said to the man on the floor, holding the wounded knee. He looked over at Bobby, who was trying to help a half-standing half-falling Sam walk. Dean heard the commotion that Sam displayed earlier and his big brother instinct- the one that screams at Dean to run over to Sam and make sure he was okay-had started to kick in, but before he could take care of his brother Dean needed to make sure that Sam's tormentor would never come near him again.

"Bobby please get him out of here." He turned back to the man withering on the floor. "I don't want him to see this."

Bobby nodded, understanding Dean's request. Knowing how Sam must feel uncomfortable being naked in front of him, he wanted to find something to cover Sam up while he brought him to the Impala but the only thing he found was shreds of Sam's shirt and his jeans and boxers. He didn't want to irritate the gashes on Sam's lower body so the jeans were out of the question. Bobby looked around until he found a blanket that didn't seem too dirty or moldy. He grabbed it with one hand, the other supporting Sam, and wrapped the small blanket around him. He noticed the way Sam was sweating even though he was shivering at the same time.

"Make it quick son," Bobby replied. "Sam's not looking so good."

Dean watched as Bobby guided his brother out of the room before he stared down at Ryan. "So, you thought you could abduct my brother, humiliate him, and even attempt to kill him without going through me?" Dean let out a humorless laughed and shook his head. "You made the worst mistake of your life the moment you planned this out."

Dean was taken aback by the laugh that came out of the man.

"I knew you wouldn't let me have my way with him without a fight. That's why I called in some favors," he said.

Dean knelt down and grabbed the man by his shirt, his knuckles turning white.

"What favors?"

******

They had only traveled down the stars and already Sam felt his body shutting down. He felt his knees began to give out as they reached the last step. Sam let out a grunt and slumped against Bobby.

"Hey Sam you have to stay awake. I won't be able to carry you if you pass out on me." It was times like this that Bobby wished Sam was a foot shorter and a couple pounds lighter. If Sam gave up now, Bobby wouldn't be able to carry Sam alone. If it came to that, then Bobby would have to wait for Dean to help him.

Sam felt weary. The trip down the stairs sapped out what was left of his adrenaline-he was surprised he still had some-and his body felt too hot to be moving. His muscles protested with every step and the lacerations and gashes made themselves known as the two traveled through Sam's prison. Sam could feel some of the ones that started to close up reopen, the blood running down his waist and legs. His head felt like a thousand drummers decided to play as loudly as they could in a small space. He felt dizzy, thirsty and cold and he had the urge to throw up as well.

"Sam do you need a break?" Bobby asked, seeing how the young man was struggling with standing up, let alone walking.

Sam shook his head, hating how that simple movement nearly made him black out.

"Just want to go..." he croaked out, feeling the bile rise in his throat.

Bobby had known the boys for years. Although he's not as good as either brother, he can still read the Winchesters better than they think he can. Years of emergency stitches, broken bones and high fevers prepared Bobby to know the signs of when the men are hurting or sick. So when Sam made a soft heaving noise Bobby took a small step back and rubbed soothing motions around Sam's back as he emptied the meager contents in his stomach.

It took a minute for the reaching to stop. Bobby spared a glance at the pile Sam created, confused how Sam threw up when he believed nothing was in his system-he guessed the bastard wouldn't have fed Sam anything. He quickly examined the pile and cursed when he saw the large specks of blood littering it.

"Alright Sam let's move along we'll get you out of here as soon as Dean is done with the bastard."

"D'n's here?"

Bobby silently swore when he heard the way Sam shortened Dean's name. He was mostly worried by the fact that Sam didn't remember seeing his own brother. Sam must be either concussed or in shock. With their luck, he was probably both concussed and in shock.

"Yeah," Bobby said, holding the boy closer as they exited the room, "he's here and he's going to kill the asshole who did this to you. Sort of wish I could too," he muttered softly so Sam wouldn't hear.

They walked a few more feet before Bobby suddenly came to a halt when he heard a creak that came from behind him. He was about to turn to look when he felt something hit the back of his head.

Bobby fell down, letting go of Sam as he landed on the floor. Sam followed, a small moan of pain escaping him when his head hit the hardwood floor.

"Did you really think it would be that easy?" a gruff voice called out. Bobby groaned as he used his elbows to push himself up. He quickly glanced over at Sam, worried when he noticed how Sam's chest rose and fell too quick for his liking.

The hunter waited until his attacker moved out from the shadows before pulling his gun out of his worn jacket and shooting the man in the stomach. The stranger went down, clutching his abdomen and moaning in pain.

"Not only is this man a stupid bastard, the people he hire are stupid bastards as well," Bobby commented, trying to ignore the loud thump in his head. He was about to attend to Sam when he heard a click of a gun and different voice in the shadows.

"Not another move or the boy is dead."

The man walked out from behind the boxes that kept him out of sight, shotgun in hand pointed right at Sam's limp form.

"Well if it ain't Tweedle Dum," Bobby muttered.

"Put the gun down now or I'll kill the boy."

After a moment Bobby reluctantly placed his shotgun down in front of him. When the man motioned for Bobby to give it to him, Bobby sighed before sliding his gun across the floor.

Tweedle Dum picked up the shotgun and quickly examined it. "Nice model," he muttered before aiming the gun at Bobby. "Too bad it's gonna be your own bullet that you'll bite," he said as he proceeded to push down the trigger.

A gunshot was heard but Bobby realized that it didn't come from the man. He watched as the man fell to the ground before noticing the bullet wound on the back of his head. He looked up and saw Beverly standing in the doorway, the gun in her shaky hands smoking.

"Nice shot," he said to the obviously shocked woman.

"I-I was aiming for his shoulder," she replied, awe and shock coating her tone.

"Lucky shot then," Bobby said as he ran over to check on Sam.

"He hit his head when he fell," Bobby said while attending to the boy he calls his own. He lifted up Sam's head, feeling something wet on his hand. He pulled his hand away to examine it and let out a string of profanity when he saw the fresh crimson staining his hand.

"We need to get to him to the hospital," Beverly said.

"We can't leave Dean here," Bobby countered.

"Well help me get Sam in the car and then you can tell his brother to hurry the fuck up," Beverly replied. "If we wait any longer he might not make it to the ride there."

******

"What other favors?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, the two men heard the gunshots ringing through the warehouse. The fury he previous felt quickly morphed into fear for what those gunshots could mean.

His worry turned into confusion when he saw Ryan's face scrunch up in confusion as well.

"They're supposed to give me a sign," Ryan said before muttering "fuck this hurts."

"What sign?" Dean's hold tightened while he shook the man. "What sign?"

"O-one of them were supposed to tell me if they killed the bastard but-"

Before he could finish, Ryan felt a hard fist collide with his face, his lips splitting open. He didn't have time to recover from the sudden punch when Dean threw another one, this time hitting his eye. While Ryan let out a yelped, Dean couldn't help but feel a bit satisfied when he saw his eye already start to swell.

Dean watched the man whimper in pain for half of a minute before standing up he stood up and gave a swift kick to Ryan's abdomen, knocking him onto the ground.

"If you so much as fucking blink I'll cut your tongue off," he warned the man. The man that took his brother might be a stupid asshole but at least he wasn't stupid enough to make any remarks to Dean's threat other than the glare he gave Dean.

He left the man, who was trying hard not to quiver on the floor, to walk over to the filthy mattress Sam was occupying and grabbed the handcuffs Bobby took off of his brother. He tried-and miserably failed- to ignore the dried blood spots and flakes that covered the mattress and the warm blood that he felt on the cuffs. Dean could have killed the man right there; Sam should not have lost this much blood-or any blood-because Dean pissed someone off. This should have never have happened to his brother.

When Dean went back to Ryan he dragged the quivering man over to the wooden post in the middle of the room and quickly attached the handcuffs around his wrists and behind the post. The man let out a pained huff as Dean tightened the handcuffs as tight as he could. Once Dean was satisfied knowing that Sam's tormentor was not going anywhere any time soon he pulled the knife he stuck in his back pocket out and twirled it in his left hand, watching the man try to curl his hurt knee further into himself. He knelt down in front of him and held the blade close to Ryan's chest.

"You really thought I wouldn't figure out a way to find you and my brother? Did you honestly think you would come out of this alive?" As Dean spoke, he slid the knife down the front of Ryan's shirt, splitting it apart and exposing the tan skin underneath.

Ryan let out a small moan as Dean traced the tip of his blade over his chest. A thin line of blood pooled out from the cut as it opened and dribbled down his sweat-coated skin.

"I knew I wouldn't make it," the man said as he sucked in a breath, "but as long as your cockslut brother was gone and your disgusting relationship was terminated I would gladly pay the price of my own life."

He let out a pained groan when Dean pushed the bullet further into his knee with the tip of the blade.

"What I still don't understand is how you blocked us from acessing the cameras in the parking lot," Dean said. "You're not the sharpest tool in the shed so how the hell did you manage to block a freakin hacker or IT or whatever the hell she calls herself from getting past the firewall? I'm guessing your favors were people who have a degree and some I.O.U's. Am I right?"

"I don't need to answer to some filth like you," Ryan said.

He couldn't hold back the screamed when Dean jammed his knife deep into his thigh, a couple of inches away from the bullet in his knee. Dean twisted it, watching the dark substance pool up to the surface, before pulling it out with a sickening "squish".

"Now there's something you need to understand," Dean said once the man's screams tapered down, twirling the bloodied knife in his hand. "I went to Hell for four months. Technically forty years in Hell time but four months Earth time. For thirty years down there I was beaten, tortured physically and emotionally, and so much other crap that would scare off even the toughest people around."

"Good. You deserve hell." Ryan spat out a glob of blood on the dusty floor and continued to stare down the oldest Winchester. "Not only are you a sick perverted fuck, you suck at math. You said you were in Hell for forty years then you said thirty years."

Dean smirked as he stepped closer to the man.

"You really are a stupid bastard," Dean said in a mocking tone. "The entire time Hell's number one torture, Alastair offered me a deal; he would stop torturing me if I tortured other souls for him. For thirty years I said no." Dean bent down and pointed the tip of the blade at the man's face, slightly hating how he enjoying the way Ryan obviously tried to suppress the fear.

"Eventually I accepted the offer," he continued. "Not only did I get out of being tortured, I learned how to turn even the most stubborn soul into a weeping mess. After all," Dean swiftly cut the side of Ryan's neck, grinning as the man grunted in pain, "practice makes perfect."

Dean pulled back his fist, the one without the knife, and slammed it against Sam's captor's nose. The man howled when he felt his bones crush underneath Dean's fist. Dean hated to admit it, but the sound of the bones breaking and the man's pain-filled screams brought Dean the same sick satisfaction he had when he tortured the souls in Hell.

"You think that was bad? I have a lot more tricks up my sleeve."

The blade trailed down Ryan's bloodied chest until it reached the cut Dean had made earlier. With the tip of the blade, Dean carefully dug it into the opening and pushed inside, causing the cut to widen. More blood gushed out as Ryan's scream echoed through the old building. He angled the knife as he pushed deeper.

Dean kept the blade in place for half a minute, occasionally shifting the knife deeper into Ryan's skin. He watched the crimson gush out of the wound, intentionally creating a larger cut as he pulled it out.

Ryan had to admit; he didn't think Dean would be intimidating or even scary but as he was faced with the pissed older brother, he was frightened and a bit shocked that he himself hadn't begged for mercy yet.

Ryan had spent some with Sam on the case hours before Dean killed his wife and stopped her from extracting her revenge. From that time, Ryan noticed how Sam was gentle but at the same time through with his interrogations, coaxing Ryan to answer a few questions but also demanding that he told him everything he knew when Ryan shied away from the subject of witchcraft and Mandy.

Dean, on the other hand, seemed like the kind of man who took charge and got answers now matter what he needed to do to get them.

The first time Ryan found them kissing he was shocked and disgusted by the Winchester boys, but he decided to try and pretend it never happened. It wasn't his business to get involved with and the men would hopefully be gone within a few days.

The next day Dean Winchester shot his wife, ending her rampage for revenge, and starting Ryan's plan for his own.

He pretended to be okay with it, fooling the men that he was taking the news of his wife's death well. He was shocked that the professional hunters didn't notice how he was really hurting and pissed but now that he thought about it Dean was more focused on his brother and probably worried about whatever the hell was-and still is-going on in that man's head.

After the Winchester's left he sat in his room-how lonely it was the first few nights without Mandy-planning his revenge against Dean Winchester. He sat in there for hours, trying to figure out how he could hurt the man who seemed to be made of steel. He thought of grabbing Dean and then torturing the man, giving him a slow, painful death. He deserved that. However he knew overpowering Dean would be easier said than done.

And then it hit him.

Sam.

Dean's bastard brother was the key to Dean's heart. If Sam was broken then Dean surely would be too.

At first, Ryan only wanted to hurt Sam. After all he wasn't the one who actually held the gun up to Mandy. But after weeks of planning, he realized that the only way to utterly destroy Dean was by killing Sam. He planned it out and tracked the hunters for nearly six months now, and he believed he would finally get his revenge.

He underestimated how scary an older brother and lover could really be.

"Dean!"

Both men looked over at the owner of the voice. Bobby's face was red and shiny due to a thin layer of sweat. His hands and shirt were covered in blood, red as Dean's rage. He didn't need to be told it was Sam's blood. He just knew it was.

"Dean we need to leave. Sam needs to go the hospital now!"

Dean heard Ryan laugh before it turned into a wet cough. Dean looked back at Ryan, the blood from his mouth and nose dribbling down his chin and onto his lap.

"Any last words?" he asked the man. He wanted to stay and feed the bastard his intestines before killing him but getting Sam out of here and giving him the medical attention he needed was much more important than any kind of revenge.

"At least I got to rid the world of your sick brother. That fucker deserved what he got," he paused to spit out the blood gathering in his mouth before glaring at Dean, the malice heavy in his eyes as he spoke, "but I regret not taking that ass for myself and trying it out for-"

Dean felt no remorse as he shoved the knife hilt deep through the bastards heart. Ryan's cocky grin slipped to a shocked looked, a small gasp leaving his mouth. He felt blood begin to rise in his throat, the pain too much for him to take.  
Dean heard the last shuddering breath escape the man's lips as his head lolled back, eyes sliding shut. The leftover blood pooled out of his mouth and down onto his lap.

"Enjoy Hell," Dean said to the corpse. He pulled the blade out and wiped the blood on the dead man's shredded shirt before turning to Bobby.

"We'll deal this this later," he said pointing at the marred corpse before sprinting out the door and down the stairs.

******

When they arrived at the Impala, Dean's heart nearly broke at the sight that laid out in front of him.

Sam was lying down on the backseat, his large legs hanging over the side. Beverly had Sam's head on her lap, rubbing soothing circles on the cheek that wasn't as cut up or bruised. She was whispering soothing words to his brother, who looked so young and broken laying in the backseat. The small blanket Bobby grabbed only went up to Sam's knees. It served more as an act of protecting his brother's modesty rather than keep him warm while the shock from blood loss settled in.

Dean walked up to them and lightly tapped Beverly on her shoulder.

"I'll sit with him."

Beverly nodded and gently laid Sam's head down on the seat before slipping out of the backseat, allowing Dean to enter. Dean sat down in the Impala, the place that had always been their home, and pulled Sam up until he was cradling his brother's upper body in his arms. Sam curled into him, just like he did when he was a kid and he was hurt or had the flu. He winced when he felt the painful throb in his head intensify and looked up at his brother with the eye that wasn't swollen shut.

"De..."

"Shh," Dean ran a hand through the sweaty and dirty mop of hair and planted a small kiss on the top of his head. He tried not to allow the fear from hearing San shorten his name show in his voice. "You're gonna be okay Sammy. We're going to get you to the hospital and I know if you could you'd shoot me the third highest bitch-face but we have to go."

He felt the violent tremors coming off of his brother's body. Dean held him closer, knowing what the signs of shock looks like and Sam was defiantly going into shock.

"How long until we get there?" Dean asked the others in the front. Beverly looked at her phone, thankful that she had the directions opened up earlier.

"About nine minutes. eight if we run through all the red lights and stop signs."

"De? Where's dad?"

Dean felt his stomach churn when Sam asked him that question.

"Why is he always out?"

Dean glanced up and met Bobby's nervous eyes in the rearview mirror. The older man looked uncharacteristically nervous, making Dean nervous. Bobby only had that look when he knew they were in deep trouble. Bobby told him Sam hit his head when he fell but Dean didn't think it would affect him too much. However Sam was going through shock and he possibly had seen the freakin devil while he was in captivity so that must had taken a toll on his head as well.

"Where is he De?"

_He's been dead for the last six years Sammy._

Dean took a deep breath before answering Sam.

"He's on a business trip. He'll be back soon."

Sam nodded, then sucked in a pained breath.

"...hurts."

"I know Sammy. I'm sorry. This is all my fault," Dean said.

"N-not your fault D'n," Sam stammered. Dean couldn't believe the kid. Here he was, bruised and bloodied with a broken wrist and a black eye and going into shock, yet he tried to reassure his brother that none of this was his fault.

 _Of course it's my fault. I pulled the trigger. I should have dealt with the bastard before any of this could happen_.

Dean didn't dare say that outloud, not when Sam was as broken as he was now.

He noticed how Sam began to stare at the spot tight next to them, his breathing heavy and quick as he tried to get away from what he was seeing.

"No... go 'way..." Sam muttered while moving

"Sammy he's not here," Dean said. He didn't understand how the hell a hallucination of the devil could be in their car when there was no space left in the backseat with his 6'4 brother sprawled across it. Then again, Sam's mind wasn't in the best of places right now. The hallucination could have easily slipped through all this confusion. Dean moved Sam so that Sam could look up at him without straining his neck-the bruises and imprints left from the rope was a painful reminder of how he had failed to save his brother before he could be hurt-and stared into Sam's eyes.

"Sam it's okay you're going to be okay. I got you. You're safe baby boy I promise."

Dean leaned over and placed a small kiss on Sam's dirty forehead, feeling the shivers vibrating from the body he was holding.

He looked over at the duo in the front of his car again. "How much longer?"

"I'd say about six more minutes," Beverly estimated.

Dean turned his attention back to Sam, noticing how his brother had stopped shivering.

"Sammy?"

Sam didn't acknowledge Dean. Dean felt his heart speed up, fear starting to override what hope he had before. Dean placed his free hand over Sam's heart and almost felt his own give out when he felt nothing underneath his fingers.

"Sammy?"

Dean gently placed his fingers on Sam's bruised neck, trying to locate his brother's pulse.

He didn't feel the slightest thump.

_Nononono!_

"DRIVE FASTER!" He yelled at Bobby. Dean felt the moment Bobby accelerated the car when he and Sam lurched forward. Dean kept his arm's wrapped tightly around Sam, trying to keep Sam's limp form safe from falling off of him.

"Come on Sammy please just stay with me were almost there," Dean said as he wrapped both arms around the still body. He muttered reassurances to the man he held, not entirely sure who he was trying to comfort: Sam or himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think there will only be about three more chapters after this and honestly I am very impressed I made it this far. Usually I move on from my writing halfway through it but I really have stuck to this one through thick and thin. I just want to thank you guys for your reviews and kudos, follows and favorites. I think that the feedback and the fact that people actually like this story is what's keeping me going. That really does mean a lot to me. 
> 
> See you next update :)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally posted this chapter earlier but I had to delete and re-upload it due to some complications sorry about that.

There were a lot of things Dean Winchester didn't like; the monsters they hunted, the healthy food Sam tried to get him to eat, seeing his brother in pain, someone messing with his Impala and so on. The list was long-endless it seemed-but the one thing he hated almost as much as seeing Sam in pain was hospitals. The smell of bleach and blood lingering in nearly every room, the machines beeping infinitely, rushed nurses and doctors in every direction: it was chaotic. To him hospitals were just an uncomfortable waiting room to see Death. 

A few months after Sam left for Stanford, both Dean and his dad got hurt on a hunt and couldn't drive to the motel-the werewolf they were hunting threw John against a rock which shattered his leg while Dean gained a concussion and could only see double-they had to call an ambulance. He stayed by his dad nearly the entire time in the hospital. Dean hated seeing his normally tough as nails, stubborn headed dad forced to stay still while the nurse put a cast on his leg and stitched his chest up since the werewolf was able to mare his chest.

The day after they left the hospital his dad, the impatient man he was, had enough of the itchy cast. He found a rusty old power saw that happened to be in the cabin they were staying in and muttered "screw bed rest" as he cut it off himself.

While John was cutting off the cast Dean took a moment to thank whoever was listening that Sam was at Stanford instead of tagging along with them on the hunt. Knowing how his brother is a pain magnet he would have probably ended up worse than the two of them. It wasn't that Dean didn't think Sam was strong or brave enough to take out a werewolf, he just didn't like the thought of his baby brother being hurt-again-from another hunt. 

Now as Dean stood in the doorway, overlooking the room, he couldn't help but feel the same helplessness as he did all those years ago when his dad was admitted into the hospital.

His brother had stopped breathing on their way to the hospital but Dean wasn't going to let Sam go without a fight. After a few moments of shock Dean had taken it upon himself to preform CPR while Bobby broke countless laws trying to get to the hospital (Dean was surprised that Bobby wasn't caught or pulled over). The back of the small car was not an ideal place to preform CPR on a Sasquatch sized little brother but Dean wasn't going to let that stop him.

His arms grew sore from the numerous chest compressions he was giving to Sam and he was feeling a bit lightheaded from but he wasn't willing to stop. Even as Bobby pulled into the hospital he was still pushing Sam's chest, refusing to stop until one of the nurses pulled him away and explained that they needed him to stop so they can save his brother. Throughout the entire car ride he couldn’t bring himself to look at his brother’s bruised face, afraid that if he did then Sam then he’d see his brother's face become an unnatural blue hue, the life sucked out of his beautiful hazel eyes. 

They must have some supernatural being on their side (or maybe one of the angels, which soon Dean scoffed at for even thinking that for a second) for somehow the doctors were able to revive Sam. Dean, although relieved that Sam's alive, was still worried as they had told him Sam had fallen into a coma, his body trying to recuperate from the trauma it had been put through. Dean had to hold back the humorless laugh when the doctor told him this. His brother had to heal from the damage that the man- _monster,_ Dean told himself, _he was a monster_ -caused, damage that was preventable if Dean found him earlier.

His brother look unnaturally small in the bed. His 6'4 figure seemed to have shrunk down to the size of the young kid he once was. Endless IV cords stuck to Sam's arms and chest. He was pale from the blood loss, the bruises on his face a dark contrast to the paleness of his brother. The black eye was the darkest part if Sam's complexion. It was dark and swollen shut. The damn nasal cannula was there to taunt Dean-he had convinced himself of that. The doctor told him it was to help support Sam’s breathing since his lungs weren’t as strong as they usually were. It seemed to be more of a mockery to Dean, telling him how he failed to protect his brother and now Sam was paying the price for Dean's mistake.

Dean had waited for countless hours until the doctor allowed him to see his brother. He had spent that time pacing, ignoring Bobby and Beverly's worried glances and reassurances ("he's going to be fine boy now sit your ass down before you create a hole in the floor") making up a story to tell the doctor, all while pestering the nurses about his brother's condition whenever one came by and fighting the need for sleep. He eventually created a mental list of what he would say to Sam. So far all Dean could come up with was _I'm sorry I let my guard down and allowed that fucking psychopath to touch you Sammy it's all my fault you don't deserve this._

When he was allowed to see Sam, he was at a loss for words. He wondered if this was what Sam felt when he saw Dean in the hospital after the demon driving the truck hit their car all those years ago: helpless and uncertain of what to do next. His guilt had morphed into anger when he first saw the bruised figure in the bed. It went back to guilt when he remembered that his brother wouldn't be in that condition if it wasn't for him.

"Hey Sammy," Dean said, pushing all the anger and guilt down as he pulled a small chair over to Sam's bed. "The doc said you're gonna be fine." He placed his hand on Sam's own, the one without the cast, and squeezed it lightly, hoping somehow Sam could feel his touch in his state.

He was told by one of the nurses the extent of Sam's injuries, preparing him for when he saw Sam. Dean had seen but when he got up close he felt the tears that threatened to fall as he saw the state his brother was in; a broken wrist, cuts on his chest, arms and legs, burn marks from when the man fucking electrocuted him, contusions on his face, torn lips from the duct tape-though Dean suspected there was something else that caused it as well. The bruises left from the rope on his throat left a hideous shade of purple and yellow covering the area (that should not be there Sam you shouldn't have gotten hurt I'm sorry it's all my fault all my fault). Lacerations on his wrists and legs that were slightly infected had been hidden underneath bandages, bloodspots staining the white fabric. He was hooked up on an IV to help with his dehydration and malnutrition. It was hard for Dean to watch his brother in this state.

They told him that his brother had luck of his side since they got Sam here before the infections could set an even deeper fever than it was. Dean was close to breaking the table in the waiting room when he heard that. _Lucky?_ His baby brother should be awake, on the road with him, enduring Dean's light teasing about how he should get a tracker implanted in him and Sam would roll his eyes and call him a jerk and then they'd conclude with "we almost died again but were still breathing" sex. Instead Sam laid unconscious, healing from the injuries inflicted by the monster.

_All because someone wanted to hurt me by hurting the person I love..._

Dean pushed a lock of greasy hair off of his brother's face with his free hand before lightly caressed the cheek that was not bruised as badly as the other. "I'm sorry Sammy." Dean was glad that no one else was there to hear the crack in his voice. "I should have protected you and I failed. But I'm here now. I promise I'm not going to leave you."

Dean sat back in the chair and watched his brother, anxiousness and leftover adrenalin the only thing keeping his urge to sleep at bay.

******

What seemed to be eons but was most likely hours later the eldest Winchester was amused he hadn't succumb to the effects of his latest insomnia. His adrenaline had simmered down hours ago, leaving him feeling sluggish and ready to drop. He hasn't slept since Sam disappeared, the small nap Bobby and Beverly forced him to take at the motel as useless as he felt at the time. He couldn't sleep while his brother was being tortured by that psychopath. 

Dean rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands, trying to rub the sleep away. He couldn't sleep now that he got Sam back. He couldn't give in to the aching need just yet.

Instead he tried busying himself. He continued his routine from the waiting room and paced back and forth in the small room. He stared out the window, watching the ink black sky mesh with the red and orange of the incoming morning. He even made mental barters with whatever was listening; his life for Sam's, giving up meat and converting to Sam's tasteless food religion, Dean going back in time and being the one to endure the torture and pain instead of his brother. He even hesitantly decided to throw in letting Sam drive the Impala for a few days. Surely his Baby would understand why he would let Sam drive for a few days. She knew how much Sam meant to him.

A majority of the time was spent at Sam's side, watching his brother for changes and willing for him to recover quickly.

For the second time since Sam's disappearance Dean found himself wishing that Castiel was still alive. He would have healed Sam and they wouldn't have needed to go to the hospital. Sam would have been just fine. Other than the devil hanging around and taunting his brother, making him see things that Dean couldn't bare to think of. 

Lucifer probably won't let this go for a while. Knowing how the dick was when he was on Earth, he would probably use this to torture Sam for a while. The thought made his stomach churn. Sam must have spent captivity not only with a psychopath but with the hallucination of the Archangel that literally put his brother through Hell. 

_Please don't let him remember too much of what happened,_ Dean silently prayed.  _Please let him forget Lucifer was with him and what that monster did._

With their luck, Sam would remember every single painful moment with both Ryan and his hallucination.

He heard the pair footsteps behind him and couldn't help but let out a heavy sigh when he heard the question:

"How is he?" 

Dean turned to stare at the duo that cautiously approached him. He must have looked as bad as he felt, for he saw how Bobby failed to hold back the cringe when he saw Dean's bloodshot eyes.

"Doc says he's in a coma since he needs to heal from everything but he's stable," Dean explained halfheartedly. He knew Bobby could sense the worrisome thoughts invading Dean's mind. The older man walked over to Dean and placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder.

"He'll be okay Dean. You two have survived worse." 

"He nearly died in my arms Bobby," Dean said, unaware of how he choked on his words. He looked up at Bobby, allowing the dam holding the tears back to crack a bit. "He stopped breathing for god knows how long. I was too close to losing him again."

The ordeal had taken Dean down memory lane to the time when Sam was taken by the Yellow Eyed Demon to Cold Oaks and how worried he was for his brother. Sam died in his arms then, and Dean couldn't handle the fact that his brother was dead when he should have been in the Impala with Dean, on their way to the next case in a state far from Cold Oak. He knew Sam felt the same way when he was torn away from him and brought down to Hell. It destroyed him, causing him to believe that demon bitch and go on a crazy rampage to try and destroy Lilith. Dean smiled sadly at the thought. They can’t function without one another.

About a minute after his brooding, Dean noticed that Bobby and Beverly were both wearing different clothes. Beverly's black hair looked damp, and Bobby's shirt was clear of the blood from the tussle when they went to get Sam. Dean caught a faint whiff of gasoline coming from the two. The eldest Winchester soon came to the conclusion that they must have went back and burned the warehouse down and took showers to get rid of the lingering smell of gasoline before returning to the hospital. Still he couldn't help but ask if they had indeed done what he suspected.

"Did you-"

"The warehouse is gone," Bobby said. "All that's left of it is the ashes."

"That's the first and last time I'm committing arson," Beverly muttered, pulling her slightly damp hair into a ponytail. "The fire department was on their way by the time we left. We would have been back sooner but we wanted to make sure the shack and the dick inside were gone." 

Dean felt the lump in his throat grow. They went back to destroy Sam's hell while he was with said brother, worrying about his condition. He was grateful that he had a friend like Bobby and that they ran into the quirky IT.

"So when does the doc think he'll wake up?" Beverly asked, changing the subject. She walked over to the still body on the bed and placed her hand over Sam's. She began rubbing soothing circles on the back of his hand as Dean spoke.

"He said probably three or four days. Sammy needs time to heal from his injuries." Beverly nodded in acknowledgment as she continued rubbing Sam's hand.

Silence soon settled in the atmosphere. Dean, occupied with watching his brother closely and making sure he was breathing regularly, almost missed Beverly's voice cutting into the silence as she spoke to him.

"Dean if there's anything else I can do to help-" 

"You've done enough for us," Dean stopped the woman mid-sentance. "Without you we probably wouldn't have found Sam," Dean said, looking back at the still man on the bed. "You really helped us out back there."

Beverly shrugged. "It was no big deal. After all I couldn't just let you two waste too much time tracking him down."

The sound of an old telephone ringing came out of nowhere. Beverly released Sam's hand and reached into her pocket. She pulled a small outdated flip-phone out of her worn jeans. 

"Gotta change that ringtone," she said as she flipped it open and read the text message. "My brother's here to pick me up. He's waiting outside. Guess I should be going," she said.

Dean felt somewhat disappointed. He had hoped she could stay until Sam woke up so he could introduce his brother to the woman who helped saved his ass. He had a feeling the two would get along and bond over nerdy crap. However he knew she should get back home and go back to doing whatever it was she was doing before she met them.

Without a word Dean held out a hand and waited for Beverly to shake it. Instead he was surprised with arms wrapped around his shoulders, tugging him in for a hug. Not knowing what to say, Dean mimicked Beverly's actions and hugged her back. 

She was halfway out the door when Dean heard her shout "I almost forgot," which earned her a few glares from passing nurses.

Beverly ran back into the private room, rummaging through her messenger bag. She muttered in frustration until she pulled out a small piece of paper and a pen. She scribbled something down onto the paper and handed it to Dean. 

"I know hunters change phone numbers all the time but if you ever need help hacking anything just call me and I promise next time I'll be better with surveillance cameras," she said. Dean huffed out a laugh, too tired to think of a response. 

"Goodbye Dean."  

She stood up on her toes and gave him a small peck on his left cheek before spinning around and heading through the door. Dean watched her, trying to think of something to say before she left.

"Beverly," he finally called out before she could leave. She turned around, ponytail bouncing as she turned.

"You deserve better men than that dick of an ex." 

"You got any suggestions?" she asked, eyebrows raised in mock-flirtation.

"Sorry but I'm already taken." 

"I know. I wouldn't want to interfere with that," she said. She knew what they had was messy and taboo but it was also special and she knew that anyone who tried to come between them would end up as dead as the dick they had recently disposed of. "Be good to him Dean." 

"Don't have to tell me to."

She smiled, eyes tired from lack of sleep but still bright from the satisfaction that she helped saved a life. Dean knew the look well; he and Sam used to get it after they finished a case and saved a civilian.

"Get some sleep Dean. Sam won't disappear on you." 

Dean wanted to tell her that with their luck Sam would disappear by the end of their conversation but he was too tired to voice his worry so instead he settled for a nod while trying to stifle the yawn threatening to escape him.

He watched Beverly leave the room worth Bobby following-possibly going to escort the IT to the car and have a few final words with her-before turning his attention back to the sleeping form on the bed. He sat down in the chair and watched Sam's chest rise and fall, satisfied with the fact that despite the torture inflicted on Sam he was one stubborn bastard who didn't give up.

"You need to rest Sam but don't worry I'll be here when you wake up," Dean promised his sleeping brother. He reached for Sam's hand, the one without the cast, and cradled it in his own.

That was how Bobby found them when he returned; Dean's head resting on the bed next to Sam's arm, chest rising up and down slowly as he slept, his hand gently curled around his brother's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not updating this for so long. It's been a rough couple of months for me and I couldn't find the inspiration to continue but I finally found it. There will are only 2 chapters left so hopefully I'll be done by the end of next month. I will be revising other chapters so look out for that. Thank you for sticking around and for your support. I couldn't have done this without each and every one of you.


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